Say Goodbye to Hollywood
by Spookykat
Summary: When Rachel loses her voice she loses her mind. What happens when she decides to leave Lima in search of her mother? Can the Glee Clubbers find her and bring her back to her senses?
1. Say Goodbye, My Baby

**A/N:**

**Thanks to all who have reviewed/added the story to their favorites list and put me on author alert! It does a writer good!**

**This story is an AU for 1x18, **_**Laryngitis**_**. Spoilers up to and including that episode apply. I am also guessing future spoilers until this season is concluded will apply as well.**

**This chapter has been revised for the third time, and hopefully for the final time. Sorry for the issues. The site won't let me edit within the 'document manager' section for some odd reason. I've extended some scenes (especially the final one) and added some details. I'd love some feedback to see what you guys think of the changes.**

**Much thanks to my wonderful beta, only_because3 on livejournal.**

**Disclaimers: **

_**Say Goodbye to Hollywood**_**, the song from which the title is taken, is not owned by me. It's owned and written by Billy Joel and originally recorded by the artist. **

_**Don't Go Breakin' My Heart**_** is not owned by me. It's owned and written by by Elton John and Bernie Taupin. Originally recorded by Elton John and Kiki Dee.**

**Obviously, I do not own **_**Glee. **_**This particular slice of amazingness is owned by Ryan Murphy, Fox and all that jazz.**

When Rachel Berry was a little girl, she used to fantasize about running away to be a big star on Broadway, acting along side the greats. She'd be headlining with Patti LuPone and on her dressing room door, there'd be a knock, and a woman would enter. She'd announce that she was her Mother…

But the news at the doctor's office forced her to kill that dream.

Finn was going to go to the doctor's office with her because they needed to rehearse Elton John's _Don't Go Breakin' My Heart_. But now rehearsal was the furthest thing from her mind.

"_I'm sorry, Rachel…you've developed laryngitis caused by nodes which have formed on your vocal chords. If you sing again, it could rupture your vocal chords completely."_

They'd never sing a duet again. Not that they'd been singing duets lately since Jesse joined New Directions, but after Jesse made it clear they were done, she tentatively approached Finn with the idea of doing a number together for the next assignment, which was duets about compromises and negotiations.

She knew that she had contributed to the lack of unity in the group with the _Run Joey Run_ disaster, but it was the fight that broke out the week before between Mercedes and Santana that forced Mr. Schuester to address the dissention among his students.

Rachel was surprised and grateful that he was willing to forgive her, or at least the very least, work with her again and she was secretly thrilled to get to spend one-on-one time with him again.

It felt good. It felt almost as good as singing.

But now, she might not ever have the chance to do either of those things again.

"_What about surgery?" Finn was asking._

"_We could do surgery, but it's risky and could leave her without the ability to speak altogether. And with all that risk, I could not even guarantee that the nodes won't come back."_

"_No. I can't let that happen. Surgery will change my voice. It happened to John Lennon after his tonsils were taken out. And, it'll leave scars."_

"_There's got to be something…" Finn answered. "I mean, they have specialists for these kinds of things, don't they?"_

"_Julie Andrews had this problem. She had to retire from singing altogether…" Rachel said softly. _

"_I tell you what. I'm going to refer your girlfriend…"_

"_Oh, she's not my girlfriend," Finn quickly corrected._

_The doctor made a funny noise in the back of his throat._

"_I'll refer the young lady you're here to support in a thoroughly non-romantic way to a guy I went to med school with. One of the best in the business," he said, writing down a name and number on the prescription pad and then making a note of it in her medical charts. "But he's going to tell you the same thing. Look, Rachel, I know this is hard to hear. You're a wonderful girl and I am the last person who wants to be the one to bring you this kind of news. But it's just an idea you're going to have to get used to. You're a talented, bright young lady. I'm sure you'll find other pursuits in life." _

"I don't care," Rachel said as soon as she got in her car. "I'm not going to let you or Glee Club down. I'm not giving up that easily."

"Rachel, you can't be serious!"

"Serious is exactly what I'm being. Those doctors don't know everything. If I can speak, I can sing. I refuse to let this bring me down," Rachel said, programming her I-Pod until the karaoke version of Elton John's _Don't Go Breakin' My Heart_ was ready at the press of a button. "Shall we take it from the top?"

Finn did what he was told, however reluctantly, and dogs within a five hundred mile-radius howled.

The next day, Finn received a call from Rachel's cell phone.

"Hello?" he said groggily, he was barely awake. It was five-thirty in the morning. Nobody was really awake at five-thirty in the moring.

Silence…

"HELLO?" he said again. And again silence.

"Rachel?"

The text that came minutes later meant that he wasn't getting any more sleep before school:

Meet me in the choir room before school, I have something to tell you.—Rachel.

Two hours later, he couldn't exactly say he was surprised by Rachel's news.

"I tried to practice my solo this morning in the shower," Rachel managed to eke out in a hoarse whisper.

"Not being able to sing when you first wake up doesn't mean anything…" Finn said, "why don't we try a little bit o Elton John now?"

"Don't go breakin' my heart," Finn began.

But Rachel…couldn't even if she tried…

"I mean, it's got to get better, right?" he encouraged.

"That's not what the doctors said," she replied hoarsely. "It's just not coming. I've used the neti-pot so many times I think I've lost my sense of smell! No amount of honey or steam or anything is going to fix this…Finn…do you know what this means? My voice is gone! My life is over!"

"Rachel…"

"It's too late in the semester to drop Glee, so I probably have to be at the rehearsal. What am I going to tell them?"

"Just…see how it goes tomorrow, and if worse comes to worse, tell them the truth…everything will be fine. They'll deal."

"You're right…" she said, taking in a deep breath. "Of course you're right. The truth is always the best. I mean, how bad can it be, right?"

By the afternoon, she was finally able to speak without sounding like a strangled seagull, but she knew what had to be done.

"Now," Mr. Scheuster began. "The assignment last week. Compromise. Negotiation. Teamwork. All for one and one for all. If we're all working our own agendas," he said with a pointed look at Rachel, "letting our hormones get the better of us, and can't get past our issues with each other," at which Santana glared at Mercedes and Mercedes, for her part, tensed but did little more than that.

The exchange between the two girls did not go unnoticed, but still he continued. "We have no chance at sectionals. I admit to letting the drama get out of hand here, and for that I apologize, but that stops now."

"We're a team here. If we can't get past our differences and if we can't exercise a little restraint and discipline and if we can't find a way to work together, then all the work we've done doesn't matter. If we can't get along, we can't accomplish anything. I hope you've all learned something this week. I hope that you're all a little wiser…a little calmer…and a little more mature and are willing to treat each other with a little more respect and understanding of each other's feelings."

"So," he said, rubbing his hands together, "that being said, who would like to go first?"

"Rachel?"

A faint chorus of 'Here we go...' could be heard throughout the chorus room.

"Actually, Mr. Shue," Rachel piped up, her voice having improved since earlier that day, "I have a regrettable announcement to make."

"Oh?"

She glanced over at Finn, who gave her his best encouraging smile.

"I've been dealt a devastating blow….a blow that will effect all of you as well. You will never again have the benefit of performing with me. My song has been forever silenced. I have been ordered by my doctors to never sing again."

"Shock. Horror." Puck said dryly.

"Obviously, Noah," she said stiffly, "although I've apologized to you a thousand times over, you're still bitter regarding the _Run, Joey, Run_ debacle, and that is understandable, however…"

"However will we survive?" Quinn said, looking as though Christmas had come early that year.

"Way to be supportive, guys," Will scolded, trying to regain control of his students. He turned to Rachel. "Are you sure?"

Rachel nodded, handing him the doctor's note.

"I see…" was all Will could say in response.

"The doctors said she could rupture her vocal chords or something if she ever sang again…" Finn supplied.

"Do you know what this means?" Kurt said with a glint in his eye to Mercedes.

"SOLOS!" Kurt and Mercedes both squealed in unison, high-fiving each other.

"Well," she said huffily, folding her arms. "I'm glad to see the pleasure that you guys obviously get from my life being in absolute shambles!"

"Rachel, you can't just walk out without a hall pass…" Will said lamely, trying to stop her, but it was no use.

"Mr. Schue," Finn said, standing up and hoisting his back-pack over his shoulders. "Can I…"

"Way to grow a set, Finn," Puck said, shaking her head.

"Follow the Yellow Brick Road and maybe the wizard will grant you a spine," Santana said, narrowing her eyes.

"You know, you should probably see the wizard for a brain while you're at it," Mercedes began. "Do you not remember the way that doe-eyed diva humiliated you and played you like a fool…a WEEK A GO?"

"You know this is permanent, right?" Finn said, exasperated with the way they were all acting. "Guys, I know she can be a pain, but this is kind of a big deal."

"I'm sure she's just not explored all the options yet," Kurt said stiffly.

"The doctor referred her to a specialist, but he said that the specialist would just say the same thing…" Finn said. "I don't think there's an easy solution for this. She needs us right now, and you're just gaining up on her because you can? Guys, as people, you kinda suck right now."

"No, Finn," Quinn countered, standing up folding her arms over her now-sizable belly. "Finally, we get a chance to put Little Miss Man-Hands in her place. She always had this attitude like she was better than every one else. And yeah, she had real talent. Could've made it big, even. But now she's just like everyone else. Don't you get it? She doesn't have the spotlight anymore. Boo-freaking-hoo."

Finn said nothing, just glared at her.

"In the meantime," Kurt said, forgetting his guilt for the time-being, "tragic as it is that our songbird has been silenced, the show must go on. So," he finished, sitting down, turning to Will, "Fearless Leader, who gets her solos?"

Finn couldn't take it anymore. With a bang, his hand slammed against the choir room door on the way out.

Finn was so furious with them he almost missed Rachel sitting on the floor in between a row of lockers.

"You heard all that?" he asked, offering her a Kleenex.

"I should've expected as much," she said stiffly. "People don't like other people who are better than they are. They were threatened by me, as people always are when in the presence of greatness…and they were just waiting for their chance to tear me down."

"You know, everything happens for a reason. Maybe this is God's way of saying…"

"I'm Jewish. I'm used to persecution. But this isn't God. It just happened…I mean, I know it's no big deal to anyone else but me, but my voice is who I am."

"No it's not…Rachel…"

She put a hand up to stop him, leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," she simply said, and turned around and walked off.

Finn didn't know it, but that would be the last thing he would hear from her in a very long time.

For the first time in her life, she was speechless.

She didn't talk for the rest of the week. Not to her dads, not to Finn. Not to anyone.

Not that anyone seemed to mind.

Her dads tried to convince her to see the specialist that the doctor recommended and she called and made an appointment, but she had absolutely no intention of going. She knew it was hopeless. She'd never sing again. Which meant she'd never be on Broadway, starring opposite the great Patti LuPone. She'd never hear a knock on her dressing room door, and it would never be her mother…

So she decided that she wasn't going to wait for the knock on the door anymore. She decided she would find out once and for all where she came from, what she was made of. She had to. So much of herself was missing. There was this big, gaping hole that had always been there growing up without a mother, and things were okay as long as she could be on stage, but now there was nothing was left. If she found her mother, at least something would be close to right again.

She didn't want to hurt her dads. They'd sacrificed so much for her, for her dreams. And now that dream was gone. So what was the point of staying? Rachel took one last look around her house and sighed, fighting back the tears that were about to flow all over again.

_I-pod. Check. Tooth brush and tooth paste,_ she thought to herself. _Check. After all, I'm about to be a high-school dropout. And high school dropouts don't usually have dental plans. Oral hygiene will be of the utmost importance._

A high school drop out. She was about to become a statistic she'd never thought she'd be. She was the over-achiever. Little Miss Straight-A's. She'd made the honor-roll ever since Kindergarten.

And she was about to throw it all away.

Months ago, colleges had already begun sending her brochures. Two weeks ago, recruiters began to call the house. She would have her pick of schools. Julliard, Boston College, Yale, all the best music schools wanted her. But now, that would have to change. She didn't know what the future held for her now.

After all, without her voice, what chance did she have of getting in anyway? Her voice was her ticket out of Lima. Her voice would get her a Hollywood Star. But she was never going to hear applause ever again.

The honk of the cab outside shook her out of her reverie. The die has been cast. She'd be singing _Leaving on a Jet Plane_ if she could actually still sing…or afford a plane ticket. She had five hundred dollars in cash freshly withdrawn from her bank account. Before all this happened, she was going to use the money to buy a ticket to see Barbara Streisand in Cincinnati, but now it was going to have to last as long as possible. She knew her fathers were married in Boston, so she'd begin there. The bus was leaving in half an hour.

She wiped the few tears that she'd finally allowed to escape and with a sigh, locked the house, leaving her keys under the matt. Not like she'd need them anymore.

Destiny awaited…however grim or dismal it might seem right at the moment. That door was shut to her forever now. It was time to find another path.

"Going on a trip, miss?"

Rachel nodded.

"Lima Bus Station, please," she told him with a sniffle. The driver helped put her bags in the trunk. She leaned her head against the cool glass of the window and closed her eyes

_Moving on is a chance that you take everytime you try to stay together. __Say a word out of line and you find that the friends you had are gone-_

_Forever...forever._

_So many faces in and out of my life, __Some will last, some will just be now anad then. __Life is a series of hellos and goodbyes- __I'm afraid it's time for goodbye agai__n._

_Say goodbye to Hollywood __Say goodbye my baby. _

_Say goodbye to Hollywood, __Say goodbye my baby._

Normally, she'd be singing along at the top of her lungs, demanding that Mr. Shue allow them to do a Billy Joel mash-up at sectionals.

Sectionals…she'd let them all down.

Glee Club…

Jesse…Finn…Mr. Shue…Puck…she'd never see Quinn's baby…

She didn't even fight the tears this time.

She'd never see those people again.

"Turn it off!" she snapped at the cab driver. "Just…turn it off, please!

"I get it!" The cab driver said, shaking his head. " You're not a Billy Joel fan! Jesus Christ on a freakin' pogo-stick, girlie, you're being a bit dramatic, ain't ya?"

Silence.

"Don't you have school today?"

"Visiting relatives," she said. It wasn't exactly a lie.

"You go to McKinley High, right? Hey, I saw you guys performing on that Mattress commercial. You're pretty good!"

Her bottom lip quivered. That was the closest she'd ever get. People would never get to hear her sing again. The tears came unbidden now and they wouldn't stop.

"What? Did I say something?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "Just take me to the bus station, please."

"Sore subject. Got it," the cab driver replied, and they rode the rest of the way to the bus station in silence.

"Hope things get…un-shambled," the driver said as they arrived at the bus-station.

She nodded a thanks and as she dug into her wallet to get the cash to pay for her ride, she saw her new self starring back. Her brand new fake ID. It was the first law she'd ever broken. But it was necessary to do what she had to do. The ID she'd procured from one of Noah's less-than-upright friends, (a Tatooed, blue-haired boy who went by the name Spider) indicated she was eighteen years old and that her new name was Barbara Ann Starr.

She'd objected to the fact that her new fake birthday was in December. After all, nobody would believe she was a Capricorn and with a last name like Starr, how is one supposed to leave behind the life of a performer?

But it was a new name nonetheless that showed she was the appropriate age and that's all she needed. And besides, another ID would've cost more money, so she remained Barbara Ann. It was a new start. It meant she could leave Rachel Berry behind forever if she needed to.

She climbed onto the bus and spent the first two hours rehearsing her new name over and over again in her head before she let the highway lull her to sleep.

TBC…

Again, thanks for the feedback on the first version, it's much appreciated. Keep 'em coming! Next chapter is complete and is coming up as soon as it gets back from the beta!


	2. A Series of Hellos and Goodbyes

**A/N:**

**Thank you to all who've given me feedback so far, it's greatly appreciated and motivates me to keep going. Just a few things I'd like to say before we begin.**

**1)This chapter has a rating of 'T' due to content and language.**

**2)This fic has apparently been Jossed. How appropriate is it that it was Jossed by the man whose universes necessitated that term? It was AU, and AU it shall remain. However, the plot will remain pretty much as I have planned out with some minor adjustments inspired by IX19. Which brings me to the next point...**

**3)Spoiler warnings through IX19 _"Dream On" apply. _**

**_4)David Berry, Nathan Lieberman, and Erica Schwartz are mine. All other disclaimers apply._**

**_5)This will not turn into Will/Rachel. Mentions of Will/Shelby, but that's as far as pairings go for this chapter._**

**6)"A Series of Hellos and Goodbyes" is a line from the Billy Joel song whose name is borrowed for this fic.  
**

_...Two hours later..._

**The Berry-Lieberman Residence**

David Berry had never been so glad to see the entrance to his subdivision. That, of course, meant that he was almost home. And home, at that particular moment, was sounding like absolute heaven.

The nearly three-hour ride back from the Cleveland Airport was taking its toll on his muscles and his patience. With all that his daughter was currently going through, the last thing he wanted to do was leave the state, but he had no choice. Deals had to be made and mortgages had to be paid. In his heart of hearts, he knew that his daughter had a flair for the dramatic, and he hoped that this episode would blow over soon.

Still, he also knew although the news she'd never sing again devastated her, he hoped that the doctors were wrong. His daughter had never been so quiet in her entire life. It was unsettling. She said (well, texted) that it was because she was on voice-rest, but he had his doubts.

Whatever her excuse was for the silence, at least he was able to convince her to make an appointment with the specialist. The thought of surgery would've worried him more if his partner, Nathan, hadn't been a surgeon himself and performed dozens of successful ones on a daily basis. The odds were in her favor even if that was the prognosis.

She was right, though…it would affect her voice if that happened. Even so, he knew that her GPA alone was enough to garner scholarships to all the best schools in the country, even if music couldn't necessarily be her major of choice anymore. She was young enough to explore other passions in life and he had absolutely no doubt that he'd have his little girl back before long.

Teachers had called her 'high-spirited and stubborn,' but David new better. His little girl was strong-willed and determined, and that was going to get her wherever she wanted to go in life. He knew that it was that same strong will and determination that would get her through this now.

Would it be easy? No. It would take some time, but she would calm down and regain her footing. And even if the situation were really as catastrophic as she claimed it was, she'd adjust. Whatever the case might have been, they would have a heart-to-heart in the morning over breakfast.

"I can't believe the airport lost your luggage," his partner Nathan groused, digging around in his pocket for his keys as they pulled up to their house.

"The airport will call us when they arrive from Baltimore," David replied, picking up the newspaper left on the porch from the day before.

"I'm just glad to be home. I didn't want to leave with all the problems Rachel's been having lately, but I had." The car signaled with a beep indicating it was locked. "How's she been lately?"

"Oh you know, still wouldn't talk, although it's my weekend to be on-call at the hospital, and when I was home, she just stayed holed up in her room."

"She's still got an appointment with that specialist at least, right?" He felt something under the matt as he stepped up to the door. "What the…"

"I think so…" Nate said, lifting the matt up with his foot to get to the spare key. "Hey David," Nathan asked, a puzzled look across his face, holding up his daughter's familiar bright pink 'Diva' key-chain. "Any idea why Rachel would leave her keys under the matt?"

"I'm as confused as a straight guy at a Liza Minelli concert," David replied, turning off the burglar alarm.

"We'll talk to her tomorrow," Nathan decided. David nodded, turning on the lights and pouring himself a glass of wine.

"Hey David?" Nathan called from the top of the stairs, which was viewable from the couch where he'd just sat down to watch the news channel. He grew concerned when he saw the worry etched on his partner's features. Concern grew into alarm when Nathan revealed his discovery.

"She's not here."

"You think maybe she's at a friend's house?"

"Rachel has friends?" Nathan said with a snort. "I love our little princess more than life itself…but let's face it…she's not exactly winning any popularity contests this year."

"I'm calling the cops," David decided, getting out his cell phone.

An hour later, Officer Stephen Tennant, who didn't look much older than his now-apparently-missing nearly-sixteen-year-old daughter was telling them that his department would look into it, to let them know if she called, but that as far as he could tell, there wasn't any indication of foul play and until thirty-six hours had passed, it couldn't be filed as a 'missing persons' case.

"I found her cell phone," Nathan said. "She left it on the dining-room table."

This all seemed so surreal. An hour ago, David Berry's biggest problem was that his luggage was missing. Luggage was replaceable. Nothing would be able to fill the void if she never…

He took his glasses off, wiping them absently, running a fingertip back and forth over the rim. She'd picked those frames up for him a couple of weeks ago.

Tears began to flow freely at that point. Nathan lead him inside, unable to know what to do or say for his partner because he was feeling the same sort of helplessness.

All Nathan could do was hold him and wait for the morning to come.

_...Six hours later..._

**McKinley High**

Figgins' office was unusually crowded by the time Sue Sylvester arrived. There were two men with fashion sense that could only mean they were gayer than Christmas accompanied by an olive-skinned dark-haired woman in a severe black suit with thick-rimmed glasses. And then there was her arch-nemesis, Will Scheuster.

"Will, you're taking your usual patheticness to a whole new level today,"

"Sue…don't…not today, okay?" was all Scheuster responded.

"What? Take that as a compliment. I know I would."

"Sue, this is Nathan Lieberman and David Berry," Will said in a low and furious tone. "I know you'd love nothing more than to bring New Directions down..."

"Everyone has to have a hobby," Sue said with a shrug.

"Rachel Berry has DISAPPEARED," Will yelled. "As in NOBODY KNOWS WHERE SHE IS. As in, SHE MIGHT NOT COME BACK."

"Are you accusing me of something, William?"

"If you had anything to do with this," David threatened, the glare from the rim of his glasses made him almost threatening. "I swear I'll…"

"You'll what? Force me to wear pink stripes with orange polk-a-dots? Listen to the legend Judy Garland on loop 24-7?"

"It would be an improvement on your current attire," he snapped back.

"David," the other man scolded. "That's not helpful."

"Sue!" Figgins said in a voice that could only be laughingly called threatening. "Dr. Lieberman, Mr. Berry, I apologize for the unprofessionalism displayed…"

"Unprofessionalism? I thought you people wanted to be treated like everyone else."

"Sue, ENOUGH!" Will bellowed.

"You would not know anything about this, would you?" the woman asked, getting her pencil ready.

"And you are?"

"Erica Schwartz," she said extending a hand, suddenly standing up. Sue didn't take it. "Private investigator detained by Rachel's fathers. And I'd really like to know why everyone here seems to think you might have something to do with the disappearance."

"Why not get the police involved?"

"We did," David answered. "The police determined that there simply wasn't enough evidence to indicate foul play," he sighed, obviously still frustrated by that fact. "So we had to go through other avenues."

"That's where I come in," Erica said. "And based on a preliminary investigation, it appears you have strong motivation to set this current state of affairs in motion."

"Let the fingers do the walking and do a little Googling on Yours Truly, did you?"

"You grew up in Canton, Ohio. Your mother was a trucker and your father owned a diner."

"WRONG! They were famous Nazi hunters!"

"You have a sister, Jean, who is five years older than you with Down Syndrome. You hold a dual degree in Psychology and Physical Education from Ohio State University. This was immediately followed by your Masters degree in Physical Education there was well. You enjoy jazzercise. One of your videos recently became a YouTube sensation, which caught the attention of Olivia Newton-John."

"I should be on _Oprah_, shouldn't I? I'm in negotiations for an inspirational Lifetime movie. _The Sue Sylvester Story_ is a catchy title, don't you think?"

"You got a "D" in philosophy."

"Because philosophy is stupid. And it gave me a headache. And you know what that class taught me? Life sucks. You're ugly. Then we die. What else does one need to know in life?"

Erica sighed. "You're also currently blackmailing your boss. And you make fun of Mr. Schuester's hair so much because you're secretly jealous of it."

"So, Little Miss Expert on All Things Sue Sylvester," she said, apparently unphased by those tidbits of her life being revealed, "what makes you think I might have anything to do with this?"

"Because Rachel is one of the primary soloists in New Directions and without her, any chance they had at Sectionals is severely compromised," Nathan piped up.

"And if New Directions flopped," David finished, "I'm under the impression that this would make her happier than…help me out here, Nate…"

"A cougar in a frat house?" Nathan supplied. David nodded in approval.

"Glad to see that you're able to keep your sense of humor about you with your daughter suddenly missing. And might I say, the way you two are able to finish each other's sentences almost makes me wish Ohio legally recognized your marriage. Is that what this is about? You're accusing me of having something to do with Rachel Berry's disappearance? William, might I remind you that your precious glee club hated the girl. HATED her. Berry's been nothing but a thorn in the side of many a member of the McKinley High student population, and, I might add, the scourge of New Directions. I hope for her sake that the list of suspects is longer than…well…me."

And with that Sue stormed out, unleashing her wrath on the unsuspecting student body.

**_...meanwhile, in the hall..._**

"Hey Finn," Kurt said, running to catch up with the athlete on his way to homeroom. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Kurt, I know that things have been really weird since my mom and your dad got together…and I was going to try and extend an olive branch and tell you about how your Dad talks about you when we spend time together…"

"He does?" Kurt said, completely bewildered.

"But then last week happened…"

"About that…I…I've been trying to apologize, but…"

"Nice to see you finally got a conscience," he said, gathering what he'd need for his next class. "Maybe now you can be a real boy."

"Finn, it's not my fault my interest in football extends only as far as my revulsion at the color schemes and my freakishly strong shins. I mean, really? Blue and Orange? Green and Gold? Brown and Orange? Can't they go with something a little more modern and a little less garish?"

"Like that?" Finn said, eyeing Kurt's current outfit, today a pink plaid shirt underneath a dark blue sand silver creen-printed t-shirt, accented with a crimson-red cardigan and skin-tight tailored white jeans.

"My particular aesthetic is only for the singularly fabulous," Kurt said. "And I am very aware that my personal wardrobe choices are not meant for the masses."

"Look, Kurt, if you want me to stop hanging out with your dad…"

"Of course I do…but it's not about that…I think something's up."

"What d'you mean?"

"When was the last time you talked to Rachel?"

"A week ago, maybe? Why? Did she talk to you?"

"No, that's just it…I've been trying to call her and apologize for the way I acted last week for days now, and her phone's been turned off. I've left her about twenty texts…nothing."

"Maybe she's holding a bit of a grudge."

"I think it's more than that."

"Just give her some space, I'm sure she'll…"

"She wasn't in Drama Club this morning. They're designing the Homecoming Float this morning and there's no WAY she'd miss that."

"Maybe she's dropping…"

Kurt just shook his head. "She's my lab partner in Biology and she always emails me her homework to turn in to the teacher if she has to miss a class, and we have a research paper due. She'd never just not turn in a paper that's worth twenty percent of our grade like that. I just walked past Figgins' office. Coach Sylvester was there. Her dads were in there with some lady with the fashion sense of FBI-Barbie, so was Mr. Schue. Nobody looked happy. Seriously, Finn…this can't mean anything good."

Finn accidentally left his cell phone in his locker over the weekend and a wave of relief washed over him when he noticed Rachel's number popped up on the 'missed calls' screen.

"See?" Finn said, showing him the screen. "Nothing to worry about." Kurt let out a sigh of relief as well.

But relief was quickly replaced by dread as he listened to the message.

"Finn," a man's voice began shakily. He recognized the voice from Rachel's home voice-mail. Finn put the message on speaker for Kurt's benefit. "My name is Nathan Berry. I'm one of Rachel's dads. Look, um, I'm sorry to bother you like this and I don't know quite how to say this…Rachel's disappeared. I was kind of hoping you might know where she is, or know anything about where she might've gone. Please call me back as soon as you get this message. The number is 555-1121….Thanks…"

With a slam, the locker was shut.

"What do you think…" Kurt began, but jumped when the athlete slammed his locker with a bang.

"Finn…I..." Kurt tried again, but he'd already disappeared half-way down the hall.

_...meanwhile..._

**The Teacher's Lounge**

"Shelby Corcoran please," Will Scheuster spat in his cellphone to the secretary on the other end of the line.

"This is…"

"Shelby, it's Will," he said, not waiting for formalities.

"Want a little afternoon delight? Because I wouldn't obje…"

"Damnit, Shelby, this isn't about that it's…I have to ask you something."

"If this is about Jesse, he should be back in school tomorrow," she began to explain. "We arrived at four o'clock this morning. The bus had a flat coming back from Disney and…" she began, but Will didn't let her finish.

"Well, it's good to know at least ONE of my students will be back…"

"What the HELL are you talking about?" Shelby asked.

"NO WAY are you playing dumb with me Corcoran. I know your game and you know she's our strongest female singer. I also know that you will not rest until you are sure you can guarantee a win for Vocal Adrenaline."

"What the hell are you saying, Will?"

"Rachel Berry's fathers came to the school this morning to say that she's disappeared."

"She's….she's what?" There was a long silence. Will thought he might've heard sniffling but found it hard to believe that women like Shelby Corcoran actually cried. "When?" she finally said softly.

"Sometime last night," Will replied with a heavy sigh, not really sure why he felt guilty for immediately thinking Shelby Corcoran had something to do with it.

"I could never hurt her, Will," she said. "You have my word on that."

With that, she hung up.

Will's shoulder's slumped in defeat as he tried to figure out his next step.

Will recalled when a sophomore died his first year teaching Spanish. It was a kid on the Debate Team called Caleb West. Will had graduated with Caleb's mother. She and her son had died in a car accident and he remembered how all his students were affected by it. The day it happened, everyone talked in hushed whispers. The girls huddled together, red-eyed and frazzled. Like Rachel, Caleb wasn't exactly popular, either, but his absence was still felt and even though the Glee Club members hadn't exactly been kind to her after she made her announcement that she'd be unable to sing in the foreseeable future, he knew that she'd be missed. It'd be hard on them. Especially if she...

Will refused to let his mind go there.

Rachel wasn't dead yet. And that was something to hold on to.

He was sure in a town like this, word was bound to spread like wildfire of her disappearance. He knew he had to tell his kids something, he just didn't know what yet.

The shrill ring of the bell signaling the beginning of the first period snapped Will back to the present.

It was going to be a long day.

_Later that day_

**Puckerman Residence**

"Hey Quinn," Puck called out. "Check it out!"

"No, Puck," she said, yawning, "you are NOT going to impress me with your Rockband score…"

"No…the news."

"What? Since when do you watch the news?"

Normally, he'd only watch the sports segment of the news if McKinley had won a game to see if they showed his play on the clip, but he turned on the TV so he could play Rockband and channel three happened to be broadcasting what had been rumored all day long and confirmed by the announcement Mr. Schue had made in Glee rehearsal that afternoon.

It was the Mattress commercial. "So? I've only seen this like a bazillion times," Quinn said, taking the remote. "Oprah's on."

"Fuck Oprah," Puck said, and taking the remote back. "It's not a commercial…"

"We bring you breaking news from Lima, Ohio," a reporter was saying. "One of the teens pictured in this commercial, filmed only six months ago, has disappeared without a trace. Rachel Berry…"

Puck turned on the video game, but Quinn turned it off. "Hey!" she protested.

"She hasn't been in her classes all day and already they've got a special report on the fact that she's missing?" Puck said.

"Not like I actually care, but, just, you know…interested…" Quinn said, turning back on the TV.

"Sources say that this afternoon, cadaver dogs found female remains in the woods off Lincoln Highway matching the height and hair-color of Ms. Berry have been found, although tests must be conducted before it can be confirmed whether or not the remains are, in fact, hers. Reporting live from Lima…"

Quinn sniffled and placed a protective hand over her belly. "Stupid hormones," she said and walked off.

"Well, Berry," he said, turning on the video game, "looks like you finally got to be the star of your very own show."

TBC...

**I loved writing Sue, but I wasn't really sure if the humor she necessitates felt right here given the mood. Thanks for the author alerts, reviews and favorites! Let me know if I'm on the right track!**


	3. Chances You've Gotta Take

**A/N: Once again, thanks to all for such wonderful feedback on the story. It really does keep me motivated to keep going!**

**This chapter title is inspired by yet another line from "Say Goodbye to Hollywood" by Billy Joel. Noticing a theme here, people?**

**If I've offended any **_**Twilight **_**fans with Rachel's views of the series in this chapter, my apologies! Her views do not express my own on the series. **

**Mentions of St. Berry ahead as well as Finchel.**

**San Diego, California**

Rachel was exhausted. Sleeping on the bus had proven nearly impossible with a crying baby on board, and finding a hotel that didn't require a credit card was beginning to seem like a Herculean task. She'd long-since abandoned the chain hotels and went to the locally owned establishments.

She couldn't afford to be taken advantage of. She only had enough left over for a week in a hotel. She knew how crooked inn-keepers could be. After all, she knew _Master of the House_ from _Les Misérables_ by heart and hoped that the owner of wherever it was she found to lay her head wouldn't take advantage of her.

She'd heard rumors that they were going to put on a local production of that play soon, and she would've given one of her kidneys to be Fantine, or Eponine, but there were dreams that could not be, and this was a storm she'd have to weather.

But by the sixth motel, The Ghosts of Musicals Past were long-gone and she was desperate for a place to rest.

"Excuse me!" Rachel said, tapping on the front desk window on an motel that was called The Stardust Inn. Anything with the word 'dust' on it didn't sound very promising, but she was done being picky three motels ago.

A stocky woman with curly dyed red hair wearing a sequined t-shirt, and blue-framed glasses was apparently too enthralled in a novel to pay Rachel any attention.

Rachel waited for what seemed like forever until she tapped on the window again.

"Could you please put the book down for a moment? I…I really could use some service here."

Another few minutes, passed, and still no answer. She rapped again on the window.

"I don't know if you take credit cards or not," she tried again. "I really don't have one and I'm absolutely exhausted. I've got enough cash for a night, so if you could just…let me have a room…I'd be eternally grateful."

"Hold your horses, Little Miss, I know you're there, and I'll get to you in a sec…" she said, eyes still glued to the pages, "when I'm done with the good part…and good LORD! I did NOT see that coming!" she exclaimed wide-eyed.

Without looking up, she replied "It's forty dollars a night. I don't need no credit card, but I'm gonna need to see an ID."

She handed the woman the cash through the window and the ID, hoping that the woman on the opposite side of the window wouldn't be able to tell whether or not it was real.

"You wouldn't happen to read _The Twilight_ series, would you?" the woman said, looking up at her for the first time. "I thought most people your age were obsessed. How'd you loose all that weight..Barbara?" she said, eyeing the ID and studying her.

"A strict exercise regime, plenty of hydration, and a well-ballanced two thousand calorie-a-day diet," she replied, suddenly missing her morning routine on the Stairmaster. "Half of the girls in my school are obsessed with Edward or Jacob, and while I admit I find Robert Pattinson attractive in a brooding, pathetic, stalkery Heathcliff sort of way, the whole sparkling Vampire part is a tad bizarre, but actually, I couldn't say that I'm judging it on its own merit as I only know that based on the fact that the entire female student body and this one gay kid…" she smiled sadly as she suddenly found herself missing Kurt, "won't shut up about it, and music's too much of a…" then she stopped, remembering that wasn't her life anymore. "Well, it used to be too much of a priority for anything else. Perhaps I should take up reading now."

"You're in school?" she said, getting a key.

"Graduated early," she lied.

"You'll be in room 213."

"So you're in music?" she said, barely looking at the ID and counting the bills. "What d'you play?

"I...I'm not anymore. I gave it up."

"I wish I was musically inclined. Mike's Place a few blocks down has a karaoke night tomorrow and my husband Bert and I go sometimes. We could raise the dead we sound so bad, but it's fun anyway," she said with a chuckle. "Especially if we've had a couple of Long Islands, if you know what I mean."

Rachel didn't, but she nodded anyway.

"My name's Earnestine, but folks around here just call me Ernie. Check-out's at eleven o'clock sharp," she said. "The bed pulls down, she said, demonstrating it, which made a loud squeaking noise. "Dial nine if you need to call out. Dial zero for the front office if you need anything."

She looked around the room. It smelled of cigarettes, sex and mildew. She didn't even want to think about what caused the stains on the sheets that she was putting on her bed, but it didn't matter. It was a soft place to land and, at the moment that was all she needed.

**McKinley High**

**The Choir Room**

_Later that day…_

The thing Will knew that what his students needed more than anything was a return to normalcy, so he was reluctant when Private Detective Erica Schwartz approached him, asking him if she could use rehearsal time to ask questions, figure out if anyone knew anything and make some progress on her latest case.

But he also knew that Erica was only trying to help, so he obliged.

"Who's the babe?" Puck wanted to know. Mercedes swatted him. "What? We're not dating anymore. It's not like you own me or nothin'. The Puckster is like a sex-dolphin, when hotness is in the room, I have to send out signals."

Mercedes rolled her eyes "I thought you were a sex-shark."

"Chicks like dolphins better."

"And you are…?" Private Detective Schwartz asked, arching an eyebrow.

"A damn fool," Mercedes muttered under her breath.

"Noah Puckerman," Puck said, ignoring his former girlfriend and giving Erica his most charming smile. "At your service."

"Guys," Will said, glaring at Puck, "this is Erica Schwartz. She's here to ask us some questions about Rachel," Will said, not sure whether he should answer for her and letting her have the floor.

"So," she began, clearing her throat. "What can you people tell me about Rachel Berry?"

"We all hated her," Quinn said. "Well, not _all_ of us," she amended with a pointed look at her ex-boyfriend, who just pretended to be very interested in the business card he was just handed.

"And what's you're name sir?"

"Finn Hudson," he said with a sigh, glaring at Quinn.

"She used big words," Brittany said, piping up for the first time.

"And did her vocabulary offend anyone?" Erica asked.

"I don't know what that means," Brittany said.

"You sniffed glue a lot as a child, didn't you?"

Brittany just shook her head. Erica just cleared her throat.

"Did anyone have any problems with Rachel?"

"Oh, you mean the fact that a root canal without Novocain is preferable to having to put up with her personality?" Kurt answered. "Miss…Schwartz, was it?" he said glancing at the card. "I am Kurt Hummel, and you are wasting your time and ours. And you could use a serious makeover."

"What makes you say that, Mr. Hummel?"

"You're barking up the wrong tree here," he answered. "Yes, we hated Rachel. But the truth of the matter is, as much as we may wish we could avoid her sometimes, nobody here actually wants anything bad to happen to her. As much as any of us would hate to admit it, we NEED her."

"He's right," Mercedes added. "We couldn't stand her, and she loved pointing out our faults and lording her perfect voice and perfect pitch and sometimes, you just want to smack her. But, fact is, she's helped a lot of us improve. She made us better.

"And your blouse is a size too big, nobody wears skirts that long unless they're in a cult, and a little pop of color never hurt anyone," Kurt added hurriedly.

"I see," Erica said, ignoring Kurt's fashion commentary. "Well, that's all the time we have for today, but thank you for all of your help. If you hear of anything, if you think of anything, give me a call."

**Sue Sylvester's Office**

_Later that day…_

"Dear Diary:

It seems that Berry has decided to fly the coop. At least, that's what I'm hoping. The police department hadn't even officially opened up a missing persons report yet because she only went missing yesterday (thus the twenty-four hours required to open a case has yet transpired) but the way Schuester's acting, you would've thought Madonna had died or something.

It's taking all the fun out of calling Schuester names, and that annoys me. What annoys me even more is that Berry did something stupid and got herself disappeared. I am absolutely confounded, Dear Diary, as to why she would do that to the people who, for some insane reason, seem to miss her.

All this Berry business would be a non-issue except Mr. Ladyface hasn't been giving me the required one hundred percent, and I have a feeling that this is the reason.

But what confounds me even more, Dear Diary, is why anyone would be suspicious that I would have anything to do with this! Granted, I'm not exactly starting the Rachel Berry Fan Club or inviting Berry over for Jazzercise and one of my signature cleanse drinks, but I don't want to see her get hurt, either.

She's a student and while I don't take the warm-and-fuzzy approach like Will I-Hate-Your-Guts Schuester (God, that felt good! It's been a good forty-eight hours since I've been able to take a shot at him!), I don't ACTUALLY want to see anything happen to her.

I wouldn't want to see any of them get hurt. None of them deserve that.

I really do hope they find her. If nothing else, so I can resume insulting Scheuster and life can get back to normal again."

_Later that evening_

**Somewhere in the East Lima **

**In a deserted parking lot**

Jesse St. James was someone who always had to have the upper hand. He was always in control. He always knew the game and how to win it, and that's why he always got whatever it was he was after, whether it was the starring role as the male lead, a competition…

Or Rachel Berry's heart.

But for the first time in his life, he felt helpless, and he hated that.

When Mr. Scheuster made the announcement in class that his girlfriend was gone, he half-wondered if it was a nightmare. Any second now, he would wake up.

He had to. She wouldn't just…leave like that.

True, he hadn't exactly left things on good terms with them over Spring Break, but after he had time to cool off, he realized he'd blown things out of proportion. True, she'd manipulated to him and lied to him to get what she wanted, but if that's what he was angry at her for, he was a hypocrite, because he did the same thing. He fully intended on apologizing, but that was impossible when she realized she wasn't at school that day.

He knew Rachel was capable of manipulation, and that she was her own person. Jesse, despite himself, respected her for that.

But just abandoning him? Dropping out of school? Just abandoning the Glee Club and all her dreams?

He asked himself over and over again what could possibly be so bad that she couldn't stay, but he couldn't come up with an answer.

"I don't like being taken by surprise," Jesse informed his former teacher.

"The world doesn't always work the way you want it to, you know," she said. "There's nothing we can do…she's gone."

"Did you see the news?" Jesse asked. "That body...if she just ran off, she would be found by now. Rachel isn't exactly the blend-into-the-crowd type."

"For what it's worth, I'm just as surprised as you are, and just as scared for her. She's my flesh and blood, Jesse. Schuester called me this morning, accusing me of having something to do with it. Of course, I couldn't tell him the truth but I think I convinced him it wasn't me. I should've told you myself. I just didn't know how to say anything without risking someone overhearing."

"So we find her," Jesse said, as though it were the simplest solution in the world.

"You've already missed a week of school."

"That's five days. We have seven absences available."

"Jesse, think this through. She could be _anywhere_. It's not as though we actually even know where to start."

"You're not my teacher anymore. I transferred schools, remember? It's not your job to care about what happens to me."

"If you fail your classes and have to quit your extra curricular activities, who else am I going to find to spy on New Directions for me?" she said with a grin.

Jesse sighed. "McKinley High's Spring Break is next week. That'll give me time to find out where she went."

"So you're a detective all of a sudden?"

"No, but I get what I want."

"Let me know what you need. I'm good for it."

**Hudson Residence**

_A few hours later…_

It was 2:21 AM according to the red neon clock in his bedroom. Not that Finn had actually SLEPT that night.

"Rachel?" Finn said groggily.

"Sorry, Romeo, it's Kurt," he said.

"Couldn't this wait until morning?"

"No, TRUST me, it really couldn't."

"Did they find her? Did they find something?" He asked, suddenly wide-awake.

"No. But with my charm and a bribery involving a makeover and a few boxes of fudge-covered Oreos, I was able to persuade Lauren Zyzes..."

"Who?

"I have it on good authority it was Zyzes and her friends who were the ones Rachel got to bug the choir room, that's how she figured out who wasn't pulling their weight…"

"Kurt, just get to the point before I hang up on you," Finn said.

"She hacked into Rachel's email account. She found out Rachel searched for plane ticket prices to San Diego, but no records of her actually buying any tickets. Finn…I think that's where she is!"

"That's weird. Why would she go to San Diego? I mean, this is Rachel we're talking about here. She runs away, and she doesn't go to New York or Hollywood, she goes to _San Diego_? That makes absolutely no sense."

"Well, Finn, she did loose her voice. I mean, who knows what she's doing there. That's not even the point. The question is…what do you want to do about it?"

"I mean, I guess it's good. It's a good chance this means that body they found wasn't hers."

"What it means is that you can go to Boston and get her back," Kurt replied.

"HOW, Kurt? How the HELL am I supposed to get there, exactly? It's not as if I've got enough money for a plane ticket lying around."

"A coach seat, two-way booking today for the first flight out tomorrow is $520."

"If you're trying to cheer me up, Kurt, you're reeeally sucking at it," he said, racking his brain, trying to figure out how he'd come up with that kind of money. "I've got exactly fifteen dollars in my checking account right now."

"Pimp yourself out on Craig's List?"

"What? Kurt…no…."

"You got any better ideas?"

Finn was silent for a few minutes, struggling to come up with an alternative solution.

"Relax, Finn, it was a joke. Look, we'll come up with something."

"Why are you helping me?"

"Because…" Kurt said with an exhale… "I miss the competition. That, and I just found an engagement ring in my dad's desk-drawer, which probably means my dad's planning on giving it to your mom, so you're as good as family. Consider this an olive branch."

"Oh," was all Finn said in response, not sure what to say to that particular revelation. "Well, um, thanks."

"Don't mention it. I mean…really. Don't." and with that, he hung up, and Finn decided sleep was a lost cause. He got up, got dressed and went for a jog, hoping that some magic revelation would come to him that would make everything all right with the world again.

Because right then, everything was upside down, and there was nothing he could do about it.

**McKinley High**

…the next day_ that afternoon_

Will Scheuster was not exactly thrilled with the idea of giving Erica Schwartz rehearsal time. They really needed it. Rachel was always their ace in the hole, and now with three weeks remaining until sectionals and their lead female performer missing, they had to find alternatives.

He had no doubt his kids would pull through. Sectionals were the least of his concerns. He had faith in his kids. After all, Rachel wasn't the only strong female singer in the group. They'd pulled together last-minute performances before and had come out on top, and that was all them. It was just the kind of students they were. And he was proud of all of them.

He knew Rachel hadn't exactly made herself any friends, but he also knew that Kurt was right. Miss Schwartz was barking up the wrong tree. None of them would've done anything to hurt her. He also knew her absence was taking its toll on them, whether they outwardly showed it or not.

So he wasn't exactly surprised to see Finn Hudson lurking outside his classroom after the last Spanish class of the day filed out.

"Hey Finn, what can I do for you?"

"I um, think I know where Rachel is," he announced.

"Finn, shouldn't you be having this conversation with Ms. Schwartz?"

"Look, Mr. Schue, I'm sure Ms. Schwartz is good at her job, but she's not going to get Rachel to come home. You know Rachel's not going to do anything she doesn't want to do. There were some searches for flight information found in an email for San Diego."

"What's she doing there?"

"I'm pretty sure she's not going to see the zoo. But I _have _to find her. I don't have the kind of funds for a plane ticket, but I can't just…let it be left to someone else…not like this."

"This is hard for everyone Finn. It's hard for me, too. I know what it's like to get your heart broken and I know you care about her, but she'll be…"

"What am I supposed to do? This waiting, wondering if she's just going to show up at school one day, or jumping every time there's a special news report on TV or every time the phone rings, wondering if it's news that she's never coming back again." He inhaled sharply and the exhaled shakily. "I can't…I just…can't…"

Will could see that his nose was bright red, and for the second time since he'd known the boy, he was about to break.

"Come here," was all Will said, and let his student cry on his shoulders for a little while.

"All my money's going to attorney's fees right now, or I'd pay for your ticket myself," he finally said. " But I know someone who might be able to help."

"I can't take anyone's money, Mr. Schue," Finn said, sniffling.

"Would you be willing to work it off on weekends?" Will asked.

Finn nodded. "For the rest of my life if I have to."

Will hoped that for Finn's sake as well as everyone else's, the benefactor he had in mind would still be willing to talk to him.

**The Stardust Inn**

_**San Diego, CA**_

Several hours later, Rachel was bolted out of sleep by loud fighting next door.

She banged on the wall, trying to get them to stop, but it was useless. She flinched when she heard glass breaking against the wall. It was still only three in the afternoon, and she figured she would use the opportunity to do what she came to do in Boston.

She got a subway map from the hotel lobby, found out that if she took the Blue Line and then caught the Green Line, she could make it to the hospital she suspected she was born in. There, she'd find some answers…and…

Then what?

She'd never been out of Lima before, except for when she had to visit her grandmother in Canton. San Diego was so beautiful and it was nearer to the ocean than she'd ever been in her life. But instead of enjoying the scenery and taking it all in, her brain was buzzing with questions, questions that she'd had all her life. Questions that could be answered…by the end of the day, if she was lucky.

What if her mother was some psycho who hated music? What if she was tone-deaf? Or worse…what if she was amazing? What if she was super-conservative and made her wear long skirts and wouldn't let her listen to _Jesus Christ Superstar_ or _Rent_ anymore because of the language and/or subject matter? What if she hated musicals? Or worse, what if she liked country music…and not good country music like Carrie Underwood or Patsy Cline, but the kind of country music that made scratching your fingernails against a chalkboard sound like a choir of angels?

But it was the big question that haunted her the most, that made her hyperventilate, that made her seriously think this was NOT a good idea and she should just go home…

What if her mother hated _her_?

…and before she knew it, there was the hospital right in front of her. She knew her dads met at University of California San Diego, so that was her first choice to look. She took a deep breath and went to the concierge desk and asked where the record's office was.

A short ride in an elevator later, she found herself at yet another window begging once again for assistance.

"I was wondering if you could help me. I'd like to see some birth records, please. Well, one birth record. Mine," she said, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, but those are sealed," the woman replied. "It would take a court ruling to make the information available to you."

"Oh, please, ma'am. I'm…" she racked her brain trying to think of anything to get the woman to help. "I'm dying. I was adopted. I don't know who my mother is. I have a rare blood-type and I don't have any siblings and…I need a kidney!"

The woman gave her a look that clearly indicated she wasn't buying the story for a second. "I saw that episode of _Young and the Restless_ two days ago, too," the woman answered dryly. "The transplant center is on the sixth floor, East Wing, Miss," she snapped, closing the window.

"WAIT!" Rachel cried in desperation, jamming her hand into the edge of the plexi-glass before it slammed shut. "Look, I've come all the way from Ohio. I've given up everything to be here. All I came for is a name. Please…" she begged. "Father, David Berry or Nathan Lieberman. Date of birth…"

The woman sighed reluctantly and entered the information in the computer. "You're in luck," she said. "Got it right here. Hold on one moment."

Rachel could hardly breathe.

She'd have the answers she'd been looking for all her life any minute.

TBC...

**And remember, a happy writer is a productive writer. Feedback is food for the soul! In short, read? Review! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.**


	4. Taking Care of Things

**I'd like to thank every one of you for being so patient with me! So sorry this chapter took me so long to write. I had a bout of writer's block after 'Funk,' but the finale inspired me again! **

**Thank you also for the reviews/favorites. It's really inspiring and I've been on this site since 2002, but this is the most reviews I've ever gotten for a story, and you have no idea how encouraging that is!**

**Kurt's song is "My Strongest Suit" from Aida, lyrics by Tim Rice. **

**If you're not familiar with the song, I suggest you YouTube either Idina Menzel's version or Shiree Renee Scott's version. **

**Finn's song is "Desperado," originally written by Glenn Fry and Don Henley**

**Also, this chapter has some moments from 'Theatricality' in it, please, guys, be civil.  
**

Emma Pillsbury hoped that none of the students at McKinley High would come to her for help in understanding Rachel Berry's disappearance, because she certainly didn't have any more understanding on the matter than they did.

Not that anyone would actually listen to her even if she did have any answers.

She might not have known why, or where Rachel was, or what was going to happen to her, but she knew that her absence was felt.

Especially by Finn and Will.

Not that Will actually still talked to her or anything, but she could tell. She knew he wasn't sleeping well. She could tell by the bags that had begun to take up permanent residence under his eyes.

Sue was actually…well, not _nice_ to him, exactly. But she left him alone.

But still, although Will was friendly towards her and they exchanged 'hello' in he halls, she wasn't about to give him an olive branch for the way he behaved, and he certainly knew where he stood with her as far as she was concerned, so she was more than a little surprised when Will came knocking on her door.

"Will, I have exactly ten minutes," she said tersely, still not entirely ready to forgive him.

"Look, I hate it that I'm coming to you under these circumstances. I should have just…come to you sans crisis, but I need to talk. _We_ need to talk."

"I'm serious, Will," she said as firmly as she could manage. "Ten minutes."

"It's about Rachel," he said.

"I know, this whole Berry business is really hard, Will. It's hard on everyone."

"Finn came to me yesterday," he said. "He says he thinks he knows where she is."

"That's really great, Will. You know, you could go to the police with that information. I know her dads are really…"

"Emma, I feel really awful for even asking you this, especially the way things have been between us lately, and Finn has promised me he'll work every weekend for the rest of his natural life if he has to…but…you know what his situation is. Single mom, you know, and I just thought…I mean, I know what it's like to get your heart broken, you know? And I also know Rachel's not coming home unless she wants to, and I…just thought…you know, maybe you could help."

"What did you come here to ask me, Will?"

"Finn needs money for a plane ticket out to San Diego next week during Spring Break," he blurted out.

"Will, I really want to help you. And Finn, too. And Rachel as well, for that matter. I really, really do. I just think…money…especially _that_ kind of money…between teacher and student…isn't exactly well…ethical. And you're not exactly in the position to um, ask me for any favors, so, um…"

"I understand," he said, and put his hand on the doorknob.

"But that isn't to say that we can't have dinner at Breadsticks sometime," she said, unable to break his heart entirely. "I'm not saying I want a, um…relationship…not just yet, anyway…"

"So a dinner between two friends sometime in the fairly near future?" he asked. Hope was practically oozing out of his pores and Emma was glad to see the first real smile on his face since Rachel's disappearance.

And she'd be lying to herself if she wasn't gladder still to know that she put it there.

Glad enough to almost forgot about the number of germs he had just spread on the doorknob as he left…almost.

* * *

_**The next day...  
**_

Sectionals were two and a half weeks away now, and extra rehearsal became a necessary part of life.

Finn Hudson made the mistake of discussing the latest development of Rachel's disappearance just before Glee rehearsal began. Or at least, he made the mistake of not being careful as to who was around while discussing that particular subject.

"You know, you should really let the pros handle this one, Finn-man," Jesse said with a smirk. "Leave the heroics for the big boys."

"Well," Kurt seethed, "maybe if you'd actually been here for your _girlfriend_ (he punctuated the word with air-quotation marks) instead of going off with your old Vocal Adrenaline pals, we wouldn't be in this mess in the first place!"

"Maybe if your _boyfriend_ (mirroring Kurt's air-quotations) here actually knew a good thing when he'd seen it, she wouldn't have needed a better man for the job."

"You weren't here, Jesse," Finn said. "Last I checked, that's kind of the first cardinal Good Boyfriend rule. You're HERE when your girlfriend needs you! You don't know how fucked up she was over this whole thing. Her world was falling apart. She needed you, and you weren't here."

"Well, maybe I should just take another trip to San Diego for Spring Break next week," Jesse challenged, leaning back against the chair, taking up as much space as humanly possible. "Maybe I'll have to prove that you'll be the same pathetic Lima looser you always were. Maybe Rachel will come running into my arms. Maybe we'll get our happily ever after…after all."

"Happily ever after? Running into your arms?" Mercedes snapped. "Bitch, please. We AAAAALLLL know that the only reason you were wantin' to tap that ass at all is because of some cruel trick Vocal Adrenaline put you up to. You're just pissed she left you before you had a chance to dump her!"

"You know she can't sing anymore, Jesse," Santana said, giving him one of her trademark glares. "So it's not like she's any good for anything else these days, especially since I understand she wouldn't give you her V-card. So why don't you just go crawling back to Vocal Adrenaline like you were planning to do ANYWAY and leave us the hell alone."

"She may not have been able to see through your little act, Jesse St. Jack-ass," Quinn spat, "but WE all could. And I would advise you to tell your little Vocal Adrenaline buddies that we will be wiping the floor with your asses, with or without her, so be prepared for massive humiliation of epic proportions."

"That is if we don't' have to mop up after your water breaks first," Jesse sneered.

"Say that again, Jack Ass," Puck challenged. Jesse stood up now, and the two boys were standing nose-to-nose. "I fucking dare you, ya little BITCH. Go ahead…say it again."

"What are you gonna do aboukt it, huh?" Jesse dared, but he was backing away as soon as he realized Puck wasn't about to back down. Finn, Matt and Mike and even Santana were on their feet now, ready to come to Puck's aid.

"Guys, he's not worth it," Artie said, rolling up in between Jesse and the rest of the Glee club members who looked like they were ready to beat Jesse to a bloody pulp.

"You know you're right…he's not," Finn said, and they started to back away, and Artie did, too.

But then, with one mighty push of the wheels, the next thing the Glee Club members heard in the choir room was the sickening cracking of bones, and Jesse St. James yelping in pain.

"You were going to break Rachel's heart," Artie said with an evil grin as Jesse hobbled out the door. "I felt inspired to break your feet."

"Finn, don't worry about Jesse," Kurt said. "There's this club in Dayton that's holding a karaoke contest tonight. First place is $500. You've still got your Lady Gaga costume, right? That might be helpful."

"Oh hell no, Kurt, no way am I going to one of those places."

"You're passing up your chance to win five hundred bucks thereby winning back your love because you're afraid of a few queers? And here I thought we'd made some progress."

"It's not that, Kurt, I just…

"Guys,' Will said, saving Finn from having to respond. "Where's Jesse?"

No answer. "Well then, Finn, you wanna take over for the time being?"

"Sure, Mr. Schue," he said, smiling despite himself. It felt good to get the lead male parts again. He just wished he had his usual leading lady.

"So who's going to take the female lead?" Kurt asked.

"Until Rachel comes back, I'll do it," Santana said.

"Alright, thanks Santana…"

"Not that I actually want her back or anything…but you know…for the good of the team," she said with a smile.

"So…" Will continued, "for sectionals, I think we need to show who we're really all about. Do songs that fit us well…allow us to celebrate ourselves and showcase our joy in doing what we do the best. Remember what it was like in the beginning, guys? We didn't know each other. Most of you would've never associated yourselves with one another, but now, we're a part of something bigger than ourselves…we're…no longer alone…we're a part of something good and real and it's THAT spirit that's going to show everyone we're winners, regardless of what some crazy judge thinks."

For the rest of the rehearsal, they sang Journey numbers with Santana taking over on the vocals. Santana had a great voice and did an amazing job. He was impressed by how far she'd come vocally in the past year, and that was, he knew, in no small part due to Rachel's coaching.

But for the first time in his life, Journey music was stupid. The music didn't fill him up anymore. It felt empty. It felt cheesy and plastic…but he got through it anyway.

He didn't know how, but he managed to get through rehearsal, and when he did, Puck cornered him.

"Dude, I heard you're going clubbing with Hummel tonight. What? Rachel dumped you so you're switching teams now?"

"What? No! There's this contest. Prize is five hundred dollars. If I win, I'll have the money to get on a plane to where she is…maybe…get her back, you know?"

"Five hundred big ones? And you didn't think I might want in on this action, seeing as how I'm about to be a daddy real soon and all?"

"Karoke Contest in Dayton tonight," Kurt said. "Top prize is Five hundred."

"Oh nononono…I am NOT competeing against you."

"What, you think you'll loose?" Puck said with a grin.

Finn just bit his lip and decided to keep his mouth shut.

"Hey! I totally get that Rachel's not entirely un-hot. Look, man, I'd be lyin' if I wouldn't do the same thing to get laid. I'll make you a deal…if I win, you get half the prize-money."

"That's…really…not…" Finn began to say, but was cut off.

"Dude, I'm in," Mike said, and Matt threw his hat in the ring as well.

"Kurt, I'm not competing against my classmates for prize money!"

"What's the matter, Finn," Puck said, making a clucking noise.

"Do you want money for the ticket or not?" Kurt protested. "A little Journey or maybe Queen, and you'll be a shoe-in," suddenly paying attention.

"Hey! Queen? Journey? I could even pull out Sublime," Puck joined in. "I could seriously use a payday right about now."

"Puck, were you even listening?" Finn replied. "Do you know what kind of place Kurt wants to drag me to?"

Kurt stiffened. "And exactly what kind of place do I want to drag you to, Finn?" Kurt said, arms folded.

"Kurt, don't play that card with me, not now."

"So you're in?" Kurt said, brightening.

Finn sighed, and nodded, resigning himself to his fate.

"Guys," Mercedes said. "Might I remind you that nobody here is old enough to legally ENTER a bar?"

"Please, Big Mamma, like I wouldn't have a fake ID," Puck said, grinning evilly.

"Call me Big Mamma one more time and you'll be belting higher than me," Mercedes threatened.

"Besides," Kurt added, "you can put that back in your wallet tonight, this place isn't exactly strict about the ID-check at the door."

"What the hell, I could use a little cash-flow for Spring Break," Artie said. "Kurt, your car is wheel-chair accessible, right?"

"The more the merrier!" Kurt said.

Finn sighed, dreading the night ahead of him, but feeling better about the whole thing with more people coming along.

But if it got him to San Diego, it would be worth it.

* * *

**_Meanwhile...  
_**

Jesse limped toward the new school nurse's office, not really effected by what he was pretty sure the members of New Directions thought was a smack-down. He was going to be the one to get their lead female singer back, and then he'd be the hero again. So what if he'd be back with Vocal Adrenaline when he got back, but they didn't' know that. She'd be back where he belonged, and he'd be back where he belonged, and that was all that mattered.

But he was making a mental note to remind his old friends at his old high school not to piss off Wheelchair Kid when a woman he'd never seen before approached him.

"I was wondering if you knew a boy by the name of Jesse St. James," she said. "I'm here to ask him some questions regarding the disappearance of Rachel Berry."

"Well, you're in luck," he said, straightening up as much as possible, and he would've given her one of his trademark grins, but instead he winced again as he bowed his head slightly.

"Jesse St. James?" she said. "I was told you'd be in Glee Club right now, but I see you're…"

"Otherwise indisposed?" Jesse said, grimacing as he limped down the hall towards the nurse's office. "Listen, I'm kind of in need of medical attention here. So if you don't mind…"

"Need some help?" she offered, putting his weight on her shoulders.

Jesse nodded. "You turn down a hall by the school's main office," he said.

"So _you're_ the boyfriend," she said, carrying most of his weight on his shoulder with realization dawning on her face. He shot her a look of confusion and she explained. "Sorry, I am Erica Schwartz. I'm here because I came to ask you a couple of questions about your girlfriend's disappearance."

"You mean Rachel's?"

"So she's not your girlfriend?"

"I guess that's kind of up to her when we meet again. I left things kind of up in the air between us before uh…she left. It is safe to say that nobody kidnapped her, right?"

She sighed. "I can't divulge privileged information," she said. "But you know, it doesn't seem like you're quite in her league. What the hell happened to you?" she asked, surveying his limp.

"Just got in the way, I guess," Jesse said lamely.

"So what do you think happened to her?" she asked.

"You know, rumor has it that she's in San Diego," he said.

"I know," she replied, opening the door to the nurse's office.

Figgins had actually hired a real RN this time, something the principal hadn't wanted to spend school budget on, but The School Board didn't give him a choice. Especially not after Terri Schuester's replacement got caught red-handed stealing anti-anxiety meds from some of the kids.

"So if you know, why are you here? Why aren't you out there looking for her?"

"I don't know why she's there," she explained. "San Diego's a relatively big place. I need to figure out what she's doing out there, where she's staying. I'm heading out there as soon as I have more to go on, I just want to narrow the field a little before I go traipsing off."

"Look, Ms. Schwartz, I've got a little…extra incentive to find her, and I know that girl better than most people in this school. I also know that she was adopted, and never really knew who her mother was. I also happen to be privy to information from said mother and I have a feeling that's what she's doing in San Diego. She'll be back, eventually, because her mother is here, of all places. But she needs to know that from someone she trusts. And that's why, when Spring Break hits next week, I'm going out there to look for her."

"They've got a great zoo there, you know," she said.

"All I'm saying is…I think we could help each other out here," he said, giving her his most charming smile.

"You have my card, right?"

"I wasn't there the day you interrogated my classmates, no," Jesse said.

She gave him two. "Look, uh, thank you for your insights, Mr. St. James. If you would please, give me your contact info on the back of one of these cards," she said. He obliged, giving her back one of her cards and pocketing the other. "We'll keep in touch."

* * *

**_Later that night..._**

"Kurt, I can't believe I let you talk me into this," Finn whined as they pulled up to a club called Spectra.

"Do you want the ticket money, or not?" Kurt said.

"_She's_ pretty fucking hot though," Puck said, ogling a woman who just walked past wearing stilettos, fishnet stockings and a skin-tight sequined dress revealing ample cleavage. "You think she swings both ways? Maybe this evening ain't totally lost."

"Oh shit, that's Yvonna Mann," Kurt explained. "She does the drag shows all over the greater Western Ohio area. She's fabulousness personified and the only person who can hit a note higher than I can with equipment in tact."

"Wait…she's got the same…?" Mike began, but Kurt wasn't paying attention.

"Dude looks like a lady," Matt said. "Hey, would that work as a song-choice?"

Mike nodded. "Can't go wrong with Aerosmith."

"We're going to have to bring our A-Game tonight if we want to win the contest money, guys."

"I'm still lost at the whole 'she's a he,' part," Puck mumbled under his breath as they all got out of the car.

"Who cares, as long as one of us wins, right?" Artie said as Mike and Matt lifted him into his wheelchair.

It was another hour and a half before the contest went underway, and Finn wished that his first bar experience hadn't been a gay club. It was so loud he couldn't really carry on conversation, so he just sat there nursing soda after soda while Kurt sipped on his Sex on the Beach.

Mike and Matt did the Aerosmith they decided on in the car and were well-received with their dance routine. Artie decided on Weezer's _Buddy Holly_ and was met with enthusiastic applause. Puck decided to perform Red Hot Chilli Pepper's _Under the Bridge, _and blew everyone away

But then the Drag Queen came on stage.

"Here we go, Finn, she's the one to beat…" he said breathlessly.

The beginning chords of _I Will Survive_ began and right away, Finn new it was going to be impossible to win. He wasn't the best performer, and he wasn't the best singer, not by a long-shot.

"I've got connections here," Kurt said in response to Finn's questioning look as he raised his glass.

"Is there alcohol in that?" Finn asked…but it came out as more of a yell, really.

"God I hope so," Kurt replied, raising his pinky and taking a sip.

"How'd you find this place?"

"I'm the only gay kid in Lima, Finn. I've got to find a boy somehow, so I did what everyone else does and searched the internet. This was the closest. I went with Mercedes once and I saw there was a karaoke contest tonight…and…" he said, not finishing the thought and taking another sip. "And no, I promise I'm NOT trying to turn you gay. I just wanted to go to a place that would most definitely have a decent collection of Broadway standards."

Finn smiled ruefully, wondering how much truth was in that statement and looked through the songlist.

"This one," Kurt said, pointing to _Walking in Memphis_. "That'll put you in the finals."

"The finals?" Finn said, but the DJ was announcing Kurt's name.

"I'm up, Finny-boy," Kurt said. And left his drink on the table.

_"In life _

_One has to face a huge assortment _

_Of nauseating fads and good advice _

_There's health and fitness, diet _

_And depo-o-rtment _

_And other pointless forms of sacrifice _

_Conversation? _

_Wit? _

_I am a doubter _

_Manners? Charm? _

_They're no way to impress _

_So forget the inner me , observe the outer _

_I am what I wear _

_and how I dress _

_Oh now I believe in looking _

_Like my time on earth is cooking _

_Whether polka dotted _

_Striped or even checked _

_With the some glamour guaranteeing _

_Every fiber on of my being _

_Is displayed to quite remarkable effect _

_From your cradle via trousseau _

_To your deathbed you're on view, so _

_Never compromise, accept no substituuuuute _

_I would rather wear a barrel _

_Than conservative apparel _

_For my dress has always been _

_My strongest suit _

_Staying in or hitting town-wards _

_From the top and working downwards _

_I ensure that every stitch _

_Is stitched in time _

_Whether wig or hat or turban _

_Whether clad in boudoir or urban _

_Not to strut your stuff _

_Outraaaaageously's a crime_

_And the few who are invited _

_To my wardrobe are delighted _

_As they wander through my things _

_To find en rooooute _

_That in negligee or formal _

_I am anything but normal _

_For my dress has always been _

_My strongest suit_

_I said anytime _

_Anywhere _

_So bring me _

_All my finest _

_Most audacious, _

_My divinest_

_Most revealing _

_Most expensive and taboo _

_Most revealing most _

_expensive _

_Most arresting _

_Most heart-stopping _

_Most free-flowing _

_Most eye-popping _

_Most arresting _

_Most heart-stopping _

_Dress has always been _

_My strongest suit _

_I am what I wear _

_I am what I wear _

_You know that _

_I am what I wear _

_I am what I wear _

_Dress has always been _

_Dress has always been _

_My strongest _

_My strongest _

_My strongest _

_My strongest _

_My strongest suuuuuuuuit!"_

The club erupted into thunderous applause, and Finn new any chance he had of winning was pretty much sunk.

"Kurt, what the hell? You were amazing up there! I'M supposed to win the ticket money!" Finn hissed as soon as he came back to his seat.

"Please, like you'd expect me to throw ANOTHER one. Besides, if I win, you'll get the money."

And now it was Finn's turn.

The introduction or _Desperado _began.

Don'tchokedon'tchokedon'tchoke…he prayed to whatever god might be listening.

"Desperado," he began to sing, "Why don't you come to your senses?"

Asking a girl like Rachel to come to her senses was like asking the tide not to come in, he knew that like he knew that the sun was hot and that the sky was blue…but he hoped that if he did get to make it to San Diego…he'd be enough to get her to come back.

He knew she still had feeling for Jesse. She was holding on to that. He also knew that Jesse would break her heart. And when he did…he'd be there to stitch it back together.

"Come down from your fences

Open the gate.

Oh, you're a hard one

I know that you got your reasons

These things that are pleasin' you

Can hurt you somehow

Don't you draw the queen of diamonds, boy

She'll beat you if she's able

You know the queen of hearts is always your best bet

Now it seems to me, some fine things

Have been laid upon your table

But you only want the ones that you can't get

Desperado, oh, you ain't gettin' no younger

Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin' you home

And freedom, oh freedom well, that's just some people talkin'

Your prison is walking through this world all alone

Don't your feet get cold in the winter time?

The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine

It's hard to tell the night time from the day

You're losin' all your highs and lows

Ain't it funny how the feeling goes away?

Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?

Come down from your fences,

open the gate

It may be rainin',

but there's a rainbow above you

You better let somebody love you

Before it's tooooooo late

He got a standing ovation.

He, Kurt and Iwanna Mann had made it through to the semi-finals.

Finn was so close now, he could almost taste the salty air of San Diego.

* * *

**San Diego…**

Within what seemed like an eternity to Rachel Berry, the person on the other side of the window wrote a name on a post-it.

"Now all I can give you is a name, right? You're going to have to get the contact info someplace else," she said, handing her the paper.

With trembling hands, Rachel nodded and took the note with the name on it.

Not just any name…it was _her mother's_ name. Someone who'd know what to do when she felt sad, someone who'd know the answers when she was confused, someone who'd make her feel better with just a touch. Someone who'd be there to make her feel not so…

Alone.

And now she wasn't.

She loved her dads. She loved them dearly and she hated doing this to them, but when something good happened to her, she wanted a mother to share them with her. When something bad happened, she wanted the comfort of a mother's arms. That was something her dads, no matter how hard they tried, they just couldn't give her.

It wasn't the kind of thing you could just…find out on your way to the elevator and so she put it in her pocket, deciding to wait until she got back to her motel room. Plus, she'd need a computer. There was an internet café across the street. She could log on, Google…

And have the answers she'd always longed for.

Rachel was so lost in thought that she didn't notice the television over her head as she stepped into the elevator.

"Rachel Berry has been missing for over a week now and is suspected to be in the San Diego area…if anyone has seen this child, they are asked to contact the Allen County Police Department at the number on your screen. You may call Crimestoppers at 123-555-1013 and remain anonymous. Any information leading to her discovery could result in a cash award."

A tall man in a plaid jacket and messy black hair that looked as though it was in severe need of a cut and wash leered at her, but her eyes remained downcast as she pressed the button for the lobby, an she got as far away from him as humanly possible.

"Where're you from?" he asked.

Rachel said nothing.

"Just a question, he said. "Just tryin' to make conversation."

"Yeah, well, I'd rather not talk," she said.

"I asked you the question because you…um, look familiar," he said, and inched closer to her. She could only see his reflection in the steel doors, but she could feel his hot breath on her. Something wasn't right. It made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge.

"Just have one of those faces, I guess," she said, trying to keep as calm as possible. She inched her way over to the elevator buttons.

"Your accent sounds like you're from Ohio," he said.

"Come on, come on, come on," Rachel muttered under her breath, wishing the elevator had a button you could press that could speed it up.

"You're that girl on the news, ain't ya?" he said.

Then he slammed his hand on the Emergency Stop button, and with a jolt, they were no longer moving. She was stuck in the elevator with the creep and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Um, I, uh…"

"You know I can get reward money for bringin' you in and I need money real bad right now," he said. Suddenly, he grabbed her arm.

"Please…don't hurt me," she pleaded.

"Don't worry, Rachel, I ain't gonna."

"How do you know my name?" she asked, eyes wide and terrified.

"I told ya! You were on the news. Now look, I ain't gonna hurt ya. I'm just gonna make sure the people lookin' for ya know where you are."

"Look, you need money?" she said, not even realizing that she was crying now, screaming at him. She took out all her cash she had in her purse and threw the bills at him. "There! You've got some!"

And as if someone had answered her unspoken prayers, the elevator doors opened.

She got out of the elevator as fast as she could, not noticing the small square-inch of yellow paper amongst the bills on the elevator floor.


	5. So Many Faces

**A/N: **Thanks once again for all the reviews/author alerts and favorites!

Also, I have compiled a playlist of all the songs mentioned/performed in this fic, which you can find under my playlists my userpage on YouTube under the username Sp00kykat (those are zeros, not the fifteenth letter of the alphabet).

_Livin' la Vida Loca_ is written, recorded, and owned by Ricky Martin

Kurt's round two song is _Fireflies, _which is written, recorded and owned by Owl City

Finn's round two song is _Power of Love, _which is written by _Huey Lewis_ and recorded by Huey Lewis and the News

**Spectra Gay Bar**

Finn Hudson couldn't pretend to not be weirded out by the things he saw. He'd never seen people dressed like that. He'd never seen two guys kissing. He'd seen two girls kissing in a porno Puck had downloaded on his computer once, but that was different…this was _real_.

And he'd never seen Kurt Hummel buzzed.

But as it was, he was so close to the prize-money he could almost fucking _smell_ it.

Not that he'd actually won at anything in his life. Like…ever.

Well, except Football. And now he could add singing competitions to that _very _short list, but those were different.

With Football, he was part of a team. Whatever shit Puck had pulled in the past, that was put aside for the sake of the game. Puck, Mike and Matt, all those guys had his back. And even a couple of times, Kurt was, too.

But now, he was against everyone else. And loosing…meant loosing her.

He couldn't let that happen.

He hated not knowing whether or not she was okay. He hated not knowing why she left. The questions drove him crazy almost as much as the possible answers.

With Glee, they might've won first place in Sectionals, but he knew it was all due to Rachel. She was the only reason they were any good. She had high standards and they might've all complained about it, but they won because she pushed them to work hard for it. He knew they didn't have any chance at Regionals without her, but that wasn't why he was fighting for the prize-money that would buy him a ticket three time zones away.

Most of all though, he just missed her.

But still, much to his surprise, two hours later, they'd reached the finals round.

He, Kurt, Artie and Puck had all made it through the semi-finals. Although Artie impressed the patrons with his version of_ Love Shack, _and Puck wowed them with his rendition of Pearl Jam's _Better Man, _at the end of the second round and it was just he, Kurt and Yvonna Mann still in the competition.

Kurt was right; his rendition of _Walking in Memphis_ had brought the crowd to their feet and allowed him to continue to the final round. Kurt himself was able to do more than hold his own as well, even though it was a song Finn wasn't that familiar with.

"I'd like to make myself believe

That planet Earth turns slowly

It's hard to say that I'd rather stay

Awake when I'm asleep

'Cause everything is never as it seems

When I fall asleep

I'd like to make myself believe

That planet Earth turns slowly

It's hard to say that I'd rather stay

Awake when I'm asleep

Because my dreams are bursting at the seams"

"You did good, Kurt," Finn said.

Kurt shrugged. "I may have pulled out the big guns too soon with the Broadway, but our chances are still not terrible," he'd said when he got off the stage after performing.

And of course, Kurt's prediction had come true.

Yvonna Mann had killed the crowd with her…his….whatever…rendition of _I Will Survive _in the introductory round, had been a shoe-in in the semi-finals with her rendition of _Nine to Five_, and she was up first in The Finals.

"Oh no…." Kurt said with a panicked expression on his face as he glanced up at the song that was about to queue up on the screen. "She is NOT just about to sing vintage Whitney." _I Just Wanna Dance With Somebody _began to play. "Oh sweet baby-manger Jesus, she IS…okay…change of plan. Finn, I REEEALLY wish you'd brought your Lady Gaga costume."

"I am NOT wearing that thing in public, even if this IS a gay bar," Finn protested.

"Clearly, the winning, once again, falls upon Moi," he said as he handed in his song choice, which he gave to the DJ as though he'd just handed in the test of his life.

Finn hadn't had a drop of alcohol, but his head was still spinning just the same when he chose his final number, too.

The introduction began, and the old, familiar rush of adrenaline came coursing through his veins, and he sang as though his life depended on it, because it did.

"_The power of love_

_Is a curious thing_

_Makes one man weep_

_Makes another man sing_

_It'll change your heart_

_To a little white dove_

_More than a feelin'_

_That's the power of love…"_

The crowd was eating it up, but he still seriously doubted it was good enough.

Kurt was practically beaming when he finished. "I wouldn't stop saying your 'Hail Mary's' yet, but maybe we've got this one in the bag after all!"

"Break a leg," Finn said as Kurt's song began.

At least this was one Finn recognized.

"_She's into superstitions, black cats and voodoo dolls._

_I feel a premonition that girl's gonna make me fall._

_She's into new sensations new kicks in the candle light._

_She's got a new addiction for every day and night._

_Upside, inside out she's livin la vida loca_

_She'll push and pull you down, livin la vida loca_

_Her lips are devil red and her skin's the color mocha_

_She will wear you out livin la vida loca Come On!_

_Livin la vida loca, Come on!_

_She's livin la vida loca…._"

That was going to win. If the crowd's reaction was any indication, there was no way it couldn't. No way in hell.

Finn's heart was beating in his throat when the judges handed the DJ their decisions. He might not have been good enough to win the prize money, but Kurt sure as hell was.

"Way to represent, Titans!" Mike and Matt cheered from the audience. Puck raised his beer bottle in agreement. E

'Pleasewinpleasewinpleasewin...' was Finn's inner-mantra as the DJ waved his hands to silence the crowd

"And the winner is…"

The entire club erupted into improved drums, tapping palms in a thunderous fury on tabletops.

"Yvonna!"

And it was over.

Neither he nor Kurt had won.

The look on Kurt's face told Finn that he was just as surprised as he was.

It'd all been for nothing. The prize-money, and the ticket to San Diego had slipped from his fingers.

And so had Rachel

Half an hour later, they piled into Kurt's car, and from the expressions on their faces, one might've guessed they were coming from a funeral.

"I can't believe we lost," Kurt said in an almost-whisper as he started the car, still looking shell-shocked.

"How could she have won?" Artie demanded to no-one in particular as he hoisted himself up into the backseat of Kurt's truck while Mike put his wheelchair in the bed of the truck. "She was flat half the time and couldn't stay with the lyrics if her life depended on it."

"It was rigged," Mike said, starring out the window.

"It's the only thing that make sense," Matt agreed.

"Fuck that shit, you guys're totally robbed," Puck said as Finn helped him into the backseat. He had trouble getting the front seat to move forward.

"Jesus, Puck, how much did you drink tonight?" Finn asked when he saw how uncoordinated he was.

"One or two...or twelve..." Puck said. "But hey, I ain't drivin', so what the hell. Pffft. I bet'at tranny wasthhfucking onevajudges," he slurred.

"Cross-dresser, Puck," Kurt corrected. "There's a difference. And…thanks guys..."

"I still can't believe you brought us to a fuckin' gay bar," Puck said, turning around to face the rest of them. "Tell any one about this and I'll feed all y'all's balls to my God-damn German Shepherd."

"You don't _have_ a German Shepherd," Finn pointed out.

" A's'minor detail," Puck slurred, and then laid his head against the window, and passed out.

"What are you going to do now, Finn," Matt asked, voicing the question that had been haunting Finn ever since they'd left the club.

"I mean, maybe I can ask my dad," Kurt began.

"No," Finn objected. He was already on thin ice with Mr. Hummell as it was.

"Got any better ideas?" Kurt demanded. "Look, I'll ask him for a loan…you can pay me back."

"Kurt…I…thanks," Finn said. "You were great up there tonight. You should've won."

"I know," Kurt answered with a sigh

**Berry-Lieberman Residence**

_The next day…_

When the doorbell rang, it had been so quiet that it had made David Berry jump out of his skin. Nathan had been on his usual rounds at the hospital,and lately, he decided to do any work he could from home just in case his daughter showed up. He half-hoped that it would be her on the other side, but he knew in his heart of hearts that it wouldn't be. It had been two weeks since his daughter went missing, and he knew that if she was going to come home of her own accord, she would have by now.

He knew the car in the driveway belonged to the investigator they'd retained to find Rachel, and he also knew that the young man with her had sort of been hanging around his house a bit, but they'd never been formerly introduced. The other woman looked familiar, too…hauntingly so, but for the life of him, he couldn't place where he'd seen her before.

"Ms. Schwartz," he said, ushering them all inside. "Have you found anything?"

"There have been some developments, yes," she said.

"Mr. Berry, I'm Jesse St. James," said the boy with the limp. He extended a hand, but David didn't take it.

"Yes, I know," he said, eyes still trained on the stranger.

"The press in San Diego have picked up the story," Erica informed him. "The San Diego PD and Lima PD are working in tandem with the CBI now. It shouldn't be long."

"San Diego? Why would she…"

"You never told her about me, did you?" the woman asked. And then realization struck like a lightening bolt.

"Shelby?" David asked with a gasp. She nodded.

"She's got your eyes," he said. "But yours are colder."

"And your taste in music," she replied with a wan smile. "Look, I know we had a deal, that I wouldn't interfere with her upbringing…and I don't want to…" she amended, taking a deep breath. "I just…I wanted her to know about me."

"And that's where I come in," Jesse said.

"Excuse me?"

"He's one of mine from Vocal Adrenaline," Shelby answered. "I asked him to befriend her so that when the time was right, we could be introduced."

"So why not just say "Hi, I'm your mother?'" David asked, outraged, face turning redder by the second. "Rachel is a REAL HUMAN BEING. She is fragile and she is special. And you can't just…suddenly show up and pretend to care just because you feel like it, and she certainly isn't a pawn in some sick game of yours! You know, this may not be interfering, but I'm pretty sure it's…well…it sure as hell can't be RIGHT!"

"I wanted to do it in my own way, on my own time!" she argued, voice raised to match his now. "I wanted her to come to me…and…since I'm the head coach of Vocal Adrenaline, if the judges found out we were mother and daughter, there could be some serious complications."

"So you sent a SPY?"

"I wouldn't use that word, exactly," Jesse began.

"Oh come off it, Jesse, you were totally sent to spy for me," Shelby interrupted. "If she's not back in time for Regionals," Shelby objected.

"I still don't understand what you're doing here with the private investigator I hired to find my daughter," David demanded. "Look, I know I've seen you around here a bit...I know you and Rachel were something of an...item...but somehow, I think there's more to it."

"I can see where Rachel got her brains," Jesse said with a shark-like smile. "Rachel and I WERE an item, yes, but that was more of a means to an end than anything else."

"And without the original number of members, New Directions is out. Not much of a competition to win first place with only two teams," Shelby finished.

"This isn't about some damn singing competition!" David exploded. "It's not about doing something just because you _can_."

"You wanted to find her at all costs," Erica pointed out. "You wanted her back no matter what."

"Rachel still has feelings for me, and I'm leaving on Friday after school to bring her back home. I'm _very_ persuasive, Mr. Berry, and frankly, I find it surprising you're not thrilled with that idea."

"Of course I want Rachel home...just...not like that. Not like this," he said glaring at Jesse.

"Mr. Berry, I AM going to bring your daughter back home by next week."

David was sure that the young man thought he was being reassuring, but David couldn't tell whether or not he'd just made a threat or a promise.

"I don't think so, Mr. St. James. You'll bring her back just so you can break her heart? What kind of sick bastard are you?"

"But I _will_ bring her back," he insisted.

And with that, they left, and David Berry hoped that the therapist wouldn't have to be moved into the spare bedroom as a result.

David wanted his daughter to come home more than anything, but the thought of her coming home because someone was playing his little girl like a fiddle didn't sit well with him.

At all.

**San Diego**

Rachel did not know how long she ran before her legs finally wouldn't carry her any further. The adrenaline was beginning to leave her veins and she began shaking as she got on the subway to her motel room.

She was broke.

Flat broke.

Every dime she had in the world was thrown at that looser all because he was going to make her go back empty-handed.

No…she looked in her purse. She had a quarter and two pennies. So the pennies were lint-covered and the quarter was sticky, but still, it was all she had in the world.

'_Well,' _she thought,_ 'at least if I can contact my mother…_' and when she couldn't find the notes in either one of her pockets, a feeling of dread came over her. _'Oh no...please dear God, let it be there!'_ she prayed silently to whatever gods might be listening as she dug down to the bottom of her jeans' pocket and turning each of them inside out.

It wasn't there.

"..." she pleaded again, but the yellow post-it was absolutely nowhere to be found.

A search in her purse turned up fruitless, and she realized she'd come all that way for nothing.

There was no way she could go back to the Records Booth now and ask the lady to go against the rules again.

It must have gotten lost with the bills…

Even if she could go back home, it was no longer a possibility. The thought of facing the consequences for her actions...and more accurately, all the people she left was more than a little overwhelming.

Back to her fathers, who, she was pretty sure, would never forgive her and were bound to ground her for the rest of her life if she ever showed up on her doorstep ever again.

Back to Jesse who had probably long-since forgotten all about her.

Back to Finn, who was probably mad as hell at her for leaving without so much as a note or a goodbye (and could she blame him?).

They would've picked the selections for Regionals by now. Kurt and Mercedes were probably relishing their solos…rehearsing them at that very moment…

School policy would eliminate her from her extra-curricular activities. Being absent this long meant an automatic failing grade, which meant that even if she COULD go back this instant, Glee was no longer an option for her.

Checkout was at ten o'clock in the morning. That was in…she studied the red blinking digits on the marquis for a drug store across the street and did the math...twelve hours and twelve minutes.

That was how long she'd have before she'd be homeless.

Without a _home_.

As in…no place to go.

And she was terrified.

TBC...

**Only two more chapters to go! As always, any feedback, including constructive criticism is definitely welcome. Reviews are love!**


	6. Time for Goodbye Again

**A/N: **Thanks once again guys for the reviews, favorites and author alerts! They're food for the soul!

* * *

Whatever Rachel thought would've happened in San Diego, it most _definitely_ was not this.

For one thing, she was _hungry_. Her growling stomach served as a constant reminder that she hadn't eaten since she nursed her last granola bar earlier that day. Her first day in San Diego, she'd purchased an economy-sized box of her favorite brand and a crate's-worth of Ramen noodles so she wouldn't starve to death. Now the granola bars were all gone and she had only one package of ramen noodles left in her hotel room.

As hard as it would be, she would have to look for pawnshops first thing tomorrow so she could sell her iPod. Show-tunes and Barbara Streisand filled her soul, but she needed essentials right now. Before she left Lima, Barbara's recording of…well…pretty much anything, as well as pretty much every musical known to man was as essential to life as the air she breathed, but now the list of essentials was shrinking by the minute.

This was SO not part of the plan. She thought for sure she'd be back in Lima by now, at least having found out who her mother was. But now, she just wished she'd never left Lima at all. After all, if her mother _had _wanted involvement in her life, _she_ would've been the one to search for _her_, but obviously, this was not the case. But it's not like she could go back to Ohio even if she wanted to. Even if by some miracle she DID make it back, she didn't know how many plates of 'I'm sorry' cookies it would take to make this right again.

She was so lost in thought, Rachel barely noticed someone sitting on the bench beside her. She'd never have noticed at all until she jumped when a small hand tugged at her cardigan.

"Yarrrrrr!" a little boy's voice piped up, wearing an eye-patch and brandishing a shiny toy sword.

"Aren't you a little young to be out here all by yourself?" she asked him

"I'm not by myself anymore," he said with a grin that revealed one of his teeth missing. "And besides, my mommy's out here somewhere. Mint-stirring for Daddy's flock. Although I don't see any mint, and I dunno where we'd stir it, so I just started playing Pirates."

"I think you mean _ministering_," Rachel corrected with a small smile, but she was too tired to give him a genuine one.

"You look a little sad," he said.

"I'm here looking for my mommy, too," she answered.

The little boy dug in his pocket and looked left and right, and said. "Hold your hand out."

She did, wondering what kind of trick the little boy was up to.

"It's magic," he said in a conspiratorial whisper. "Mamma said God and magic don't go together, but I think God has His own kind of magic," he said. "It's gotten me out of trouble more than once," he added, nodding solemnly.

It was a penny, flattened and distorted so much that you couldn't tell it was Lincoln on one side or the year in which it was minted, but even if it was just a penny, the random act of kindness almost brought tears to her eyes.

"Th-thank you," she said softly.

"JONAH!" Rachel heard a frantic lady's voice call, startled; she turned to see where the voice was coming from. A woman with light-brown hair came scrambling over. "Jonah, you scared me half to DEATH! Look, I'm sorry if my little boy's been bothering you…"

"I haven't seen you out here before," she said. "My husband runs a ministry about a block from here. What's your name?"

"Ra…I mean…Barbara," she said, catching herself just in time.

"Well, Ray-Barbara, or whoever you are, you don't belong here, do you?"

Rachel just shook her head.

"What in the world are you doing out here if you don't mind me askin'?"

Rachel _did_ mind. She minded a lot. It had been an agonizing couple of weeks and the last thing she wanted to do was relive them for a stranger. She really just wanted to forget it all more than anything. Still, she didn't know why, but she warmed to the woman.

"I came here looking for someone…my mother," she finally said through sobs. Pam just put her arm around her and remained quiet, letting Rachel tell her story. "I had her name on a yellow post-it note, and then I got attacked…so I freaked out and just threw anything I could think of to get away. Unfortunately what I threw at him was every dollar I had in the world. And the post-it."

The woman handed the still-sobbing Rachel a Kleenex and hugged her.

"Now, now," she said. "The important thing is that you're safe."

"I d-don't have anywhere t-to go," Rachel finally managed to say.

Pam sighed and had the expression of someone who'd just come to a decision. "Can you cook?" she asked.

"My 'I'm Sorry' sugar cookies are legendary back home," Rachel said with a small smile.

Pam sighed, looked her up and down and seemed come to a decision. "My name is Pam. Pam Hollinger. My husband and I have a ministry for girls who have lost their way, so we're usually busy with them, but I have another daughter at home…Emily…who has Cerebral Palsy. I've renewed my nursing license to cover her medical expenses and I could really use some help. I need someone to do light housekeeping, prepare the occasional meal and watch the children while I'm gone. We don't really have a spare room, but we can set up the day bed for you in the den. I could pay you $50 a week plus free room and board. I'll advance you…" she glanced in her purse… "the first fifteen of that so you can take the bus home and get a shower, get your things and get a good hot meal. Be at this address at around 7:30. What do you say?"

"Yeah, come stay with us!" Jonah said enthusiastically. She felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. How could Rachel say no to that face?

It sounded too good to be true. She had no idea how to take care of small children outside of the occasional babysitting jobs she got every so often, let alone a special needs child, but she was in no position to be choosey.

It was a roof over her head and a bed to sleep in.

And it meant she could keep her iPod.

At least for now.

* * *

The mood at McKinley High was one of excitement and anticipation. Spring Break was almost here, and normally, Finn would've been excited along with everyone else just to have a week off from school, but this time was different.

The Cheerios were going to Miami, which meant Santana and Brittany would have been going with them, but they opted to stick around for extra rehearsals since Santana now had a couple of Rachel's old solos and Brittany never went anywhere without Santana.

There was talk of the football team going to Disneyworld, but budget-cuts quelled that discussion pretty quickly much to Finn's relief. Not that he could've afforded it anyway, but if he was going anywhere for Spring Break, it would be the first flight out to San Diego.

But as it was, he was no closer to finding Rachel than he was a week ago. Although he'd earned a little money mowing lawns and doing whatever odd jobs he could find, it wasn't enough for even gas money.

He knew Jesse had already purchased his ticket to San Diego and on one hand, he knew that the former Vocal Adrenaline singer would deliver on his promise to get her back, although just how much 'former' Jesse St. James' commitment to his old school was still up for debate, if it meant he'd be breathing the same air as Rachel again, that was okay.

On one hand, as much as he hated it, he knew Rachel would come back for _that guy_. Although he questioned Jesse's feelings for Rachel, he knew that for some unknown reason, _she _really _did_ love him and if he succeeded in finding her, she'd follow him to the moon if he asked.

But still, Finn didn't trust him and was more surprised than anyone when he actually came back from Spring Break and acted genuinely upset when Mr. Schue explained what happened.

Finn still wished more than anything that he'd be enough for her to come back, that he was the one she chose, but he'd been a Lima Loser his whole life, so why would things be any different when it came to Rachel Berry's heart?

He realized with a sinking certainty that if he himself were enough of a persuasion to come home, she'd be heading to lunch with him at that very moment, discussing last-minute preparation for Regionals. As it was, they only had one rehearsal left before Regionals, and they were all trying to get used to the idea of competing at Regionals sans their lead female singer.

"We're not _that_ bad guys," Mercedes was saying as Finn sat down with his tray. "I mean, I don't know about y'all, but I think a couple of extra rehearsals, and I think we can still bring it."

"Yeah," Tina joined in. "It's not like Rachel was the only one of us with talent.

"Hey, guys, no past tense," Finn said.

"Oh my FUCKING GOD, Finn," Puck exploded. "When are you going to wake the fuck up? Berry's _gone_. I don't know about you guys, but I ain't waitin' around for Dorothy to click her heels and come back from Oz. Regionals are comin' up fast, with or without her, and we're just going to have to deal."

"Rachel went to Oz?" Brittany said, thoroughly confused. "But Santana, you said that place wasn't real."

"As much as I hate to admit it," Kurt said, "we wouldn't have gotten this far without her. Our chances of winning at Regionals now are about as good as Miley Cyrus has at winning an Academy Award."

"You're forgetting one thing," Jesse said as he came up to them with his tray. "You've still got me. I'm your ace in the hole. I _was_ Vocal Adrenaline. I know what it takes to beat them, and you've all got it."

"You think you're sitting with us, Jesse?" Santana demanded, standing up and getting nose-to-nose with him. "Oh my GOD. You think you're one of us? We don't' let POSERS sit with us. So go run away with your tail between your legs like the dog you are."

"What did I…" Jesse began, but Quinn interrupted.

"Are you fucking KIDDING me?" Quinn blurted out. "God, I can't believe you're still trying to pull this shit. You're such a LIAR! Rachel was your girl, and you say you're planning on bringing her back, but honestly, for the life of me, I don't know why you would, but I'm pretty sure if you've got pure intentions, then I'm a FREAKING VIRGIN."

"Quinn! Calm down…." Finn said when he felt all eyes in the cafeteria were on them, but Quinn was on her feet now and he knew it would take a _lot _to shut Quinn up more than it used to. At nine months pregnant, standing up took a lot more effort than it used to, and she wasn't backing down now, audience or no audience.

"I saw you in a parking lot with Shelby Corcoran the other night," Quinn continued. "Rachel Berry was a naïve, annoying ROYAL pain in the ass, but she was a good person and if you were stringing HER along, fine, but don't think the rest of us are as stupid as she was."

"What do you mean he was in a parking lot with Ms. Corcoran?" Finn exclaimed. "Jesse, what the hell, man?"

"Well, guys, I've got some work to do in the computer lab," he said. Artie rolled away from the table, and Jesse started to back away, remembering the pain the wheelchair caused the last time it made contact with his feet, but Artie just gave him an evil grin as if to say he could cause damage again if he wanted to, but just went to put his tray up.

"It's not what it looks like," Jesse said in what Finn thought was a poor attempt to recover. "Look, Ms. Corcoran is Rachel's birth-mom. All she wanted to do was make sure I…" he paused as he seemed to be searching for the right phrase; "connected the dots so that Rachel figured it out on her own."

"Well, you failed," Finn said. "EPICALLY. If you'd…I dunno…maybe actually BEEN here, you could've stopped this. But NO. You had to go running off with your buddies. She needed you, man. She was going through shit and you weren't there."

"You just can't stand the fact that I'm the one she wants," Jesse sneered.

And with that, Jesse walked off without letting Finn say anything else in return. Not that Finn actually _had_ anything to say to that…but still, it would've been satisfying giving the bastard a broken nose to go with his broken feet.

Finn settled for slamming his fist into the can of soda, completely flattening it in one blow. Everyone at the table jumped back. They hadn't seen him this mad since The Baby Drizzle Drama.

"I fucking hate that guy," Finn said, and got up from the table. He just couldn't stand it anymore. He had to leave; he disposed of his tray and spent the rest of the lunch period shooting hoops in the gym.

The rest of Finn's day passed uneventfully.

The seventh period bell rang, and Finn resigned himself to the fact that San Diego was a fantasy. Not like being unable to leave Lima was anything new, but it was driving him crazy not knowing where Rachel was, wondering whether or not if she was okay.

He was so distracted that Kurt pulled out of the school parking lot before he realized he'd forgotten his History book, something he desperately needed if he wanted to pass the test waiting for him the first day back.

"You could just Google," Kurt suggested, but Finn shook his head.

"I'm not doing so hot in that class and needed an A," he clarified. Kurt sighed, but as the words left his lips, he found himself wishing once again Rachel hadn't left so she could tutor him.

It was back in the very back of his locker and if he hadn't had to reach back for his notebook, he would've missed it. He heard an odd noise as something slid from the top of the notebook onto the top shelf in the locker. He found was a blank envelope, and the contents of the envelope were almost too good to be true.

It was five hundred dollars. In cash. With the money he'd saved working odd jobs and mowing lawns, that'd be enough for a trip to San Diego.

"Holy fuck," he muttered to himself, and headed to Mr. Schue's office, who was obviously responsible for the surprise, but his teacher just shook his head.

"I tried, Finn…I really wish I could've helped, but um…" Will stammered, the look on his teacher's face echoing his own disbelief. "I wish I could tell you who left it, but you know, maybe for once, just don't question it. Just take the money and run." His face broke into a broad grin. "Go get your girl back," he said with an affirming nod. "Have a good spring break."

"You too," was all Finn could think of to say in response, and went back to Kurt's car, just waiting to wake up from what had to be a dream, unable to believe his sudden change of luck.

For the first time since Rachel left, things were finally starting to look up.

TBC...

* * *

**Thanks for sticking around this long, guys! We're almost to the end! I know I said we had one more chapter to go, but Rachel had other ideas, so there **_**might**_** be an extra one...but anyway, hoped you liked! If you did, please, please PLEASE read/review! As always, con-crit is awesome!**


	7. Words Out of Line

**A/N: **Sorry this chapter was so long coming guys, I hope you still remember this fic! I had a bit of a case of writer's block, but it's been cured so here ya go! Enjoy! Thanks for being so patient!

* * *

Apparently, Finn's change in luck was only temporary.

Finn was _really_ hoping to be on a flight out to San Diego before his mother even realized he'd gone anywhere, but he couldn't miss football practice because it was the second-to-last-before school got out, but while he was gone, she just HAD to go on a cleaning-spree and she just HAD to find his printout of possible cheap flights departing in the next twenty-four hours.

"Finnegan Alexander Hudson," his mother scolded, cornering him as he came in, brandishing the print out. "When were you planning on telling me about this little trip of yours?"

To make matters worse, Kurt had just come up from the basement and raised his eyebrows at his mother's use of his full name. Finn shot his step-brother-to-be a warning-glare, but had more pressing matters at hand.

Like the fact that his mother was about to ruin everything.

"Um…actually, I was kind of…not going to." Finn stammered, realizing too late that now was NOT the time for honesty.

"You were going to go across the country without telling me? Were you _ever_ planning on coming back?"

"Well, yeah, Spring Break's only for a week, Mom," he said as though it should make perfect sense to her.

"What in the WORLD would you be doing in San Diego?"

"I hear the zoo's nice," Finn said lamely, looking at his shoes.

"That's kind of an expensive trip to the zoo," Carole said, arms folded. "Care to tell me where you got the money for this trip?"

"I've been working odd jobs and stuff and…well…I kinda just…found five hundred dollars in my locker today."

"Finn, I thought I raised you better than this! You don't just…FIND five hundred dollars! Did you REALLY think for one second you were going to get away with this?"

"No no no! He did!" Kurt butt in, attempting damage control.

"Kurt, are you telling me you've been _helping?_"

At that moment, Burt walked through the door. Finn wasn't about to take his eyes off the floor, and Carole still had her glare trained on her son.

"Burt, perfect timing, hon," Carole said. "I just discovered my son was trying to run away with money he got from God knows where and YOUR son helped!"

"Kurt?" Burt Hummel asked his son with a questioning look. "What the hell?"

"Actually, he really DID find it in his locker today," Kurt explained.

"Find _what_, exactly?" Burt asked, a mixture of confusion and fury etched on his face.

"Five hundred dollars!" Carole exclaimed. "Which seems to have miraculously appeared."

"Woah, woah, woah….what's five hundred bucks got to do with anything?"

"He needed it to go to San Diego," Kurt explained as fast as he could.

"SAN DIEGO?" Burt exploded "What the hell for?"

"Rachel," Kurt explained with a sigh. "That's where they think she is and I tried to help Finn get the money in a Karaoke contest. Anyway, we lost, and…he just…found it today."

"Is that true?" Carole asked.

Finn nodded.

"Oh, honey," Carole said, putting her arms around her son. "I know you miss her, but you've just _got_ to let the police do their job. You don't even know if that's really where she is, if she's still even there."

"I _have _to get her back, Mom," Finn insisted. "I mean, if I ever find out who put the money in my locker, I'll work lawns for the rest of my life if I have to, but I can't just…sit here and do nothing."

"I can't let you go to San Diego by yourself," Carole said.

"Mom, I'll be old enough to fight in wars and be tried as an adult in a few months. I think I can handle a cross-country trip."

"Finn…" she said, giving him a look that told Finn this was not a matter of negotiation.

"What if I went along?" Kurt asked suddenly.

"WHAT?" Burt, Carole and Finn blurted out at once.

"Yeah, I can go with. You know, what Dad? We can stay with Aunt Becky," Kurt suggested.

"Alright," Burt finally decided with a sigh, "But you're working off the ticket in the garage until it's paid for." Burt sighed. "Guess I've gotta go call your mother's sister."

Kurt nodded, grinning, and Finn resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have a travel companion.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

San Diego, CA

It was a struggle to get up the next morning, but it felt so _good _to have somewhere to be and have a purpose in her day other than one that was so obviously futile by now, that she didn't even need to hit the snooze button when the alarm went off.

She checked out of the hotel and although it was difficult getting her suitcase off and then on the bus and then walking the half a mile from the bus stop to the address the woman gave her, it was easy to follow the directions and Rachel had no trouble finding it.

The house only one level and was a good bit smaller than the one she left behind, but she could tell it was well kept. It was a pale blue and a large bright pink flowering bush Rachel couldn't identify was the only shrubbery in the yard, which was littered by a small red boy's bike and a giant blue plastic toy car, as well as other various children's toys. A beat-up grey Oldsmobile was the only car in the driveway, and a tall man dressed in a suit with graying hair had just closed the doors and pocketed his keys as a flash of gold fur barreled past them, parking right at Rachel's feet.

"You must be that girl my wife talked about," he said, giving her a warm smile. She nodded, and he greeted her in a firm handshake. "I hope you like dogs. That's our Golden, Daisy. I'm Bill. My wife's just tickled pink you're helping out here. Emily's been anxious to meet you. Listen, I hate to uh, greet and run, but I've got to work."

Rachel nodded as he fished his keys out of his pocket, unlocked the door for her and opened it as she carried her bag inside. "PAM!" Bill called out as Daisy barreled past her. "That girl's here!" Then turning to Rachel: "when I get home tonight, we'll have a proper introduction."

"Mrs. Hollinger?" Rachel called out. Jonah greeted her the second he entered, enthusiastically wrapping his arms around her legs in the tightest hug he could manage.

"You're here!" Jonah . Rachel couldn't help but feel immediately warmed by the boy's welcome. "Come see my room!"

"Jonah!" Mrs. Hollinger's voice called out. "Jonah, show her where the den is where she'll be sleeping and then bring her back to your sister's room, okay?"

"Okay!" Jonah chirped, spreading his arms out like he was pretending to be a Superhero and flying down the halls almost faster than Rachel could keep up.

She had to make her way through the kitchen if she needed to get to the den. The kitchen itself was cramped with barely enough counter-space to cook on, but it was impeccably clean, although Rachel noticed the absence of thinks like a microwave and a dishwasher. The walls and what little counter-space DID exist were cluttered with ceramic knick-knacks that said things like "John, 3:16" and "Jesus Saves." The refrigerator looked like it was several years old and adorned with pictures obviously drawn by children and a calendar featuring The Lord's Prayer that was open on the current month. She hoped that they wouldn't mind the fact that she was Jewish, but didn't have much time to ponder on this as the den was only one room over and the kitchen was tiny.

The bed itself was an antique, and a quick test proved that there wasn't much in the way of cushion underneath, but the quilt stitched in muted pink and blue patterned fabric that decorated the top of it looked soft and well-loved. She wondered what pattern it was. Her fathers only ordered things from Ikea, so she'd never really slept under a quilt before, but there was time for questions later. Now, it was time to meet Emily.

Rachel didn't know quite what to expect with Emily. She'd never known anyone with Cerebral Palsy before.

"Barbara! So glad you're here!" Pam greeted warmly, hugging Rachel.

"So this is Emily?" Rachel asked, waving at the girl in the bed. She had light brown hair that was braided on both sides and thick glasses, and sparkling blue eyes like her mother's, and a wide grin revealed that one of her top front teeth were freshly missing. Daisy's head rested on Emily's lap as Mrs. Hollinger finished up the last of her braid, acknowledging Rachel's presence with a wag of her tail.

"You have a lovely home," Rachel said, smiling at the little girl, who turned an interesting shade of purple and buried her face in the dog's fur. "Would you like me to help you with her?"

"Yes, I was just about to get her into her wheelchair," Mrs. Hollinger said.

Rachel found it with ease and folded it out, remembering how the contraption worked from when Mr. Schue made them all live in one for a day. Emily couldn't have weighed more than fifty pounds, and so it was effortless lifting her into the chair with Mrs. Hollinger's help.

"Emily was diagnosed with Spastic CP when she was about six months old," Mrs. Hollinger explained. "It left her paralyzed on her right side. It was hard to accept at first, but God never gives you anything you can't handle," she said. "And you, my dear, are just a God send! I didn't even have to show you how they work!"

"Back home a friend of mine was paralyzed from a car accident and our teacher made us live like him for a day," Rachel explained.

A glance around the room revealed countless drawings. At first, Rachel didn't make sense of any of them, but then she recognized a couple of the constellations.

"Did you draw these?" Rachel asked the little girl, who nodded, turning bright red again.

"CP doesn't effect her speech, by the way," Mrs. Hollinger said, jotting down a list and fishing around in her pocket. "She's just incredibly shy. She'll get over that after awhile though.

Rachel nodded, and Mrs. Hollinger continued.

"Emily just loves the stars," she said. "Her father and I got her a telescope last Christmas, and if it's a clear night, you cannot get her away from that thing."

"This one's my favorite," Rachel said, pointing to the one an adult had obviously written 'Lyra' on the top and dated a couple of months ago. "That, as I'm sure you know, is the Lyre, a kind of musical instrument. It's my favorite because music's my favorite. You know it's the only representation of music in the sky? I guess even in the night sky, the arts are under-represented."

"Oh, you're a musician?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"I play the piano a little," Rachel said. "I used to sing, but…"

"We could really use your help in church on Sunday and Wednesdays!" Mrs. Hollinger said. "Our regular pianist moved to Boca Raton."

"I don't bel…"

"I think you should have a conversation with my husband when he gets home," Mrs. Hollinger said, not letting Rachel finish that thought. " I'm sure Bill would just LOVE some help with the music for Sunday services," she said.

"There's a park nearby where Daisy can run when the kids wake up from their naps, and Jonah can show you the way. They get one snack before dinner and absolutely no sugar."

"NOW can I show her my room?" Jonah asked.

"Why don't you do that, honey. Mommy needs to lie down before she goes to work anyway."

With that, Mrs. Hollinger went to bed, and Rachel was left alone with the children.

"I'm bored," Jonah whined for what seemed like a millionth time.

Rachel had to help Emily in the bathroom, and although that in and of itself wasn't much trouble, keeping Jonah from destroying the house while she wasn't able to keep an eye on him was proving to be far more trying than anything she'd ever had to deal with in her life. She was longing for the days when her biggest problem was getting everyone to pull their weight in Glee. How Mrs. Hollinger was sleeping at all through all the racket Jonah had made by toppling over a plant, Rachel had no idea.

Two hours had passed and it had seemed like an eternity. Jonah couldn't stay on one activity for more than two seconds and it wasn't Rachel's fault that things weren't wasn't sure how much longer she was going to last in this job with her sanity in tact. Jonah, still in his pirate phase, had decided that Daisy was his first mate and that she was going to be the pirate queen, and somehow this meant that she had to be tied up.

"But Pirates and Pirate Queens don't tie each other up, Jonah," Rachel said, trying to reason with him.

"They do if it's pretend! Walk the plank!" Jonah commanded.

"Jonah, I really don't think your mom will be very happy if she wakes up and finds out I've been tied up," Rachel insisted.

"Fine, can we go to the park?"

Rachel thought that was a VERY good idea. Mrs. Hollinger left a twenty dollar bill on the kitchen counter for emergency expenses, and since Emily hadn't communicated beyond nods and headshakes, Rachel thought that bribery in the form of balloons for both the children at the park warranted an emergency.

They'd been at the park for ten minutes when Rachel heard the canned recording of an ice-cream truck.

"No sugar, Jonah! Plus, it's not fair for you to get some if your sister doesn't get any." Rachel said, understanding now why his mother was so strict about the sugar rule. That child did NOT need any chemical reason to be hyper.

"But I got money from the tooth-fairy last night and mamma doesn't have to know."

"But I'll know and it wouldn't be fair for you to have ice cream and not your sister."

"So, I'll get something we can share."

Dreading the prospect of an even MORE hyper Jonah, she finally agreed, justifying to herself that the boy could work of the energy in the park.

Emily tugged on Rachel's hand when she gave Jonah the money. "My shoe's untied," she said barely loud enough for her to hear.

Rachel bent down to tie it, and walked in the direction she thought the ice cream truck was.

"Jonah!" she called

The little boy was no where in sight.

"JONAH!" She called out again, frantic. "Oh my God…"

"Don't say the Lord's name in vain," Emily scolded.

"Actually, I was praying," Rachel told the girl. "Want to help me find your brother?"

"Jonah?" Emily asked in a voice significantly louder than any volume she'd heard from her new charge before, but still not loud enough to be heard over any kind of distance.

"JONAH! COME HERE THIS INSTANT!" She called again.

Her eyes scanned the park for any sign of the little boy, and Daisy decided to bolt after a squirrel at that particular moment.

"DAISY! JONAH!" she called again, heart pounding in her throat.

Emily began to cry.

"Excuse me," she asked a couple of old men playing chess on a bench, "have you seen a little boy walk by?" They stared blankly at her and she called for him again.

"Has anyone seen a little boy?" She cried out to nobody in particular, but she might as well have been invisible. There was a police station a couple of blocks away, and after a half an hour of a panic-filled search turned fruitless. She decided that the police station was her only resort.

"Somebody please help me!" she cried, wheeling Emily, who was in tears right along with her. "I've lost a little boy! I'm losing my job! I'm losing my mind! I…" and then she froze.

Someone had said her name—her real name. She whipped around.

She blinked, unable to believe she was seeing exactly what…or more accurately…who….she was seeing.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," a woman said. She was nobody Rachel recognized, but the person who was with her was very _very_ familiar.

"JESSE?"

* * *

**TBC...**

**Hopefully the next chapter won't take me quite so long to write. I can't thank you all enough for your patience, guys, please take the time and review and let me know you're still out there! Oh, and if you're bored and are in the mood for angst, check out my other WIP, "Topsy Turvy." Thanks again for taking the time to read and I hope you enjoyed!**


	8. Another Series of Hellos and Goodbyes

**So sorry guys that this took so long to write. I think with all my other projects going on, The Muse just sort of dropped this story, but we're almost at the end and I have the next chapter written in my head. And thank you once again for all the reviews/favorites/author alerts!**

"Jesse?" Rachel repeated, brain having a hard time comprehending the image of her ex-boyfriend in front of her. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd ask the same of you," came Jesse St. James' cool reply. "Like you really expected me to just let you abandon your dreams? And just run off like that? Nobody leaves me, Rachel. I came here to get what I want," he finished, his steady gaze never leaving hers.

"You ran off, too!" She replied hotly.

"It was Spring Break!" he protested. "I'd paid for the trip months before transferring to William McKinley!"

"And when you left, I thought you'd broken up with me because of the whole _Run, Joey, Run _debacle. Not that I could blame you for that, though," she admitted.

"I realized I might have overreacted a bit. Rachel…" he said. "Come home," he pleaded. "Your fathers miss you. Everyone at Glee misses you. But to hell with them. I miss you."

Rachel hung her head. "They don't miss me in Glee. Kurt's probably doing cartwheels back home because now he gets all my solos. They don't even _like_ me. They never fail to point out that I'm annoying, that I have an abrasive personality and that I have no fashion sense. They only kept me around because I had talent. And now I have no voice, so what's the point?"

"No voice?" Jesse asked. Finn had told him about this, but still, it couldn't have been as bad as all that.

"Is anyone here missing a little boy?" a police officer asked.

Rachel sighed with relief as Jonah came bounding up to her with a bright red balloon trailing behind him.

"Found him in the park and he wanted to pet the horses on the horse-and-carriage rides we have for tourists," the cop explained.

"Thank you officer," she said, running to scoop him up.

"BARBARA!" he cried.

Jesse and the woman both raised their eyebrows, bemused at her fake name.

"Not my choice!" Rachel defended.

"Wait right here while I talk to these people, okay?" she told Jonah, putting him down.

"So," the strange woman said. "Does this mean I can book you on the next flight out with us?"

Rachel shook her head. "I can't go home."

"Ms. Berry, we know that you came here originally looking for your biological mother," the woman said. "My name is Erica Schwartz. I'm a private detective hired by your fathers to find you, so clearly, I've done my job here, but in my search for you, I've discovered some information that Mr. St. James has regarding the reason why you left Lima in the first place."

Rachel just gave him a questioning look.

"So you know how when I joined New Directions initially everyone was suspicious that I had an ulterior motive. Clearly, they should be. I mean, leaving one of the top clubs in the state for a rag-tag team like New Directions? Where, instead of working three shows to the point of perfection, you have these incredibly lame "assignments," he said using air quotation marks. And I know how much you hate the fact that so many of your teammates choose to not pull their own weight. Well, except for that big girl and the pregnant one. But don't tell them I said that. I'd like my appendages in the very near future."

"You're not exactly winning me over here, Jesse," Rachel said.

"Well, Vocal Adrenaline could use someone with your work-ethic, and the reason you left Lima in the first place might be a bit closer than you think."

"What are you saying? Even if I were to come back, I've been gone so long that extra curricular activities like Glee are out of the question as far as grades are concerned. Not to mention the fact that I live…lived," she corrected, in LIMA. Not Carmel. And I don't know if you've heard, but I. Can't. Sing. Anymore."

"Rachel, that's ridiculous. If you can talk, you can yell at me like that, you can sing. So, move to Carmel," he said, as though it were the most obvious solution ever.

"You must be the only person in Allen County who is crazier than me," she said.

"No, I'm serious." _'And with you gone, I believe that distinction goes to one Finn Hudson' _he could've finished, but decided better of it. "I move back in with my parents. You move in with me. We have an entire basement level that's ready for you to move into and my mother insists."

"Even if I do come back, I can't just…abandon New Directions."

"Looks to me like you already did," Jesse countered, and Rachel hated the fact that he had a valid point.

"Are you leaving us?" Jonah asked, tugging at her sleeve. "And why do they keep calling you Rachel?"

"Well, you know how some people have nicknames?" 'Like Man-Hands' she thought bitterly, thinking of Quinn.

Jonah nodded.

"It's kinda like that. Tell you what, I'll finish things up here and then I'll take you and Emily home, ok?"'

"You said you had proof of my real mother?" Rachel asked Erica.

The detective handed her an envelope.

"I think you'll find all you need there."

"That still doesn't explain what you're doing here, Jesse."

"My old Vocal Adrenaline Coach gave me an assignment. I intend to see it through to the end. I've done all the research. Everything's been written out. All that's needed now is for you to make the right decision," he said, and headed for the door.

"Here's my card," Erica told her as they left. "Let us know when you decide. Our plane leaves for Columbus tomorrow at 12:30."

When they got home, Mrs. Hollinger was waiting for them. "You guys have been at the park awhile," she said.

"Rachel found me at the police station!" Jonah informed her.

"That's nice. Who's Rachel?"

Jonah pointed at Rachel, who grinned sheepishly. "I can explain."

"Police station? What were you doing at the police station?" she asked, alarm in her voice and expression growing by the minute.

"I got lost…but it wasn't Bar…I mean Rachel's fault. I was the one that wandered off when I shouldn't've."

"I think Barbara, Rachel, or whatever your name is, we need to have a discussion," Mrs. Hollinger said in tone that told Rachel she wasn't going to like this discussion one bit.

* * *

Finn couldn't believe it. He was on the first flight out. It didn't really help that Kurt was with him, but it's the only way he could get around his mother, and honestly, having Kurt there wasn't so terrible. And the fact that his aunt lived in a sprawling ranch-style home in a wealthy neighborhood just outside of San Diego didn't hurt, either.

'_Well, that explains Kurt's never-ending money supply,'_ Finn thought ruefully as the taxi pulled up to the sprawling mansion.

"KURT!" Boomed a woman carrying a cane in one hand and a beer bottle in the other. She was dressed in a tight leopard-print dress and wearing her hair in a style that reminded him of an odd cross between Blanche and Rose from the _Golden Girls. _

"Aunt Becky!" Kurt greeted his aunt with a grin.

"You were right about the red. Drives Chester wild!" she said with a wicked grin.

"What did I tell you?" he said. "Aunt Becky, this is Finn."

She stooped down to give Kurt a hug and gave Finn the once-over. "Burt's told me all about you. You're a tall drink of water, kid," she said.

"So when's Burt going to pop the question already?" Aunt Becky asked, eyes twinkling at Kurt. "She's not a gold-digging harpie, is she?"

"What? No. Carole's awesome!" Kurt answered. "And I saw the ring in my dad's desk, so it's just a matter of time.

"Well, this may be a bit premature, but welcome to the family, Finn," Becky said, giving him a hug.

CHESTER!" she hollered loud enough to make Finn and Kurt jump. "Come get these boys' bags and show them where they'll be staying."

An old man who looked to Finn like he should've gone to the nursing home thirty years ago came hobbling towards them, and try as he might, couldn't even lift Finn's duffle bag. Knowing it was hopeless, Finn picked both his and Kurt's up. "Just show me where we're staying," he said.

"Such a nice boy," Becky said.

"What brings you boys here?" she asked once they returned.

"An epic story of love and loss," Kurt said grandly. "And spring break. Finn's girl ran away to San Diego and we're here trying to bring her back."

Finn rolled his eyes.

"It's a long way to come for a piece of ass, son," Aunt Becky quipped.

"That's not the reason we're here trying to bring Rachel back," Finn tried to correct Kurt. "Well, not the entire reason," he amended.

"She's the lead singer in our Glee Club and as much as I hate to admit it," Kurt explained, "we need her back if we have any chance of winning Regionals next week."

"Regionals?" she asked.

"A competition," Kurt answered at the confused expression on her face.

"Glee club? You came all the way out here because of Glee Club? That's about the stupidest damn thing I've ever heard. I mean, football, cheerleading, I understand…but singing and dancing? Competitively? What do they think High School is? American Idol? What? Do you think you're going to find yourself and solve all the world's problems doing crappy renditions of Sondheim or Rogers and Hammerstein?"

Finn and Kurt just exchanged glances that clearly said 'What planet is this lady from?' "We do all kinds of stuff. Top Forty, jazz standards, oldies, Journey songs," Finn said defensively.

"And Stephen Schwartz," Kurt helped.

"Oh, like that makes a huge difference."

"Dad and Carole would've never met if it weren't for Glee," Kurt said pathetically, trying to defend his favorite extracurricular activity to his aunt.

"Oh, don't mind me. I'm just happy you boys aren't gettin' into things you have no business gettin' into, and if Glee is the reason why my brother-in-law's been on cloud nine lately, then who am I to poo-poo it?"

"I should call my dad, let him know we've gotten here okay," Kurt said. Finn nodded, wondering what his next step would be.

Mr. Schue and his mother had been right. San Diego was a big place. Bigger than anywhere he'd ever been before.

"So, your damsel in distress," she said, taking a swig of the beer. "This Rachel girl," she said, turning to Finn. "Any idea where to start?"

At Kurt and Finn's matching puzzled expressions, she said: "You boys are as clueless as a virgin in a sex store, ain't ya?"

"Don't look at me!" Kurt protested. "Finn was the one who thought hot tubs were a part of the whole birds-and-the-bees thing."

"Did they drop you on your head when you were a baby?" Aunt Becky asked.

"Hey, I figured it out eventually!"

"When Rachel blabbed!"

"Oy, I feel like I'm living in a soap opera and I don't even know you people…so is this chick loaded?"

"From what we were able to tell, she took a bus," Kurt said.

"So…not loaded," she said, taking a swig of her beer. "My advice? Start with the hotels near the airport that don't require credit cards."


	9. So Right for Troubadors

Finn had asked Kurt when all this started why he was helping him. But to be perfectly truthful, Kurt honestly didn't know what he was doing in San Diego.

More importantly, he seriously had no clue why he was helping Finn get her back.

Rachel Berry was quite possibly more annoying than Bella Swan and Barney the Dinosaur combined. She was loud, she was obnoxious, she ALWAYS had to be the star of the show (that was HIS place, not hers, after all) and Barney Rubble had better fashion sense than she did. And really, with Rachel gone, it meant more solos for himself, which was never a bad thing.

Not to mention, how in the world were they were going to FIND her at this point was beyond him entirely.

She could be _anywhere_. And he knew better than Finn did that San Diego wasn't exactly _small_. And he was the first to admit that he had absolutely no idea where to start, which is why his facebook status that morning read: 'In San Diego with Finn. Needle, say hello to Haystack.'

"If I were Rachel Berry, where would I be…" Kurt asked himself aloud, only half-aware that Finn was even within earshot. "Oh GOD my brain hurts."

Finn just shook his head. "You guys are like…the same people. So it can't be that hard to figure out where she'd go."

Finn wasn't exactly the brightest bulb in the box, but sometimes he _did_ have those moments of clarity. Finn was right. They WERE the same person. But he couldn't dwell on that terrifying thought at the moment. If they were going to find her by the end of the week, they couldn't waste time.

"To the stage!" Kurt blurted out. "You KNOW she can't stay away from the stage for long! We're not in Hollywood, but San Diego's theater scene can't be THAT big. Finn. From there, we'll look in Karaoke bars, and see if that gives us any leads. We'll have her back by the end of the day."

"Kurt, the doctors said she can't…"

"To hell with the doctors. Do you think Rachel Freaking Berry would let ANYONE tell her to give up on her dream? This is RACHEL we're talking about here. I've known her since the second grade. The girl's hit puberty, but that's pretty much the only thing that's different."

Kurt gasped, practically fluttering now.

"Music stores!"

"They still have those? I mean, doesn't everyone just download that stuff off the internet for free now?"

Kurt just shook his head, ignoring his almost-stepbrother's comment, pacing furiously. "There's one thing Rachel wouldn't be able to do without for more than a month, and it's sheet music. She practically sleeps in it. So…" Kurt said, getting out his iPhone and pressing the Google App. "We'll start with every music store in San Diego and go from there."

* * *

"Care to explain what's going on here?" Mrs. Hollinger asked.

Rachel felt horrible. There were no show tunes that existed to express how guilty she felt, and generally there was something from Musical Theater repertoire _somewhere _that stated her feelings perfectly.

"It's kind of a long story," Rachel said sheepishly. "First of all, I just want to say I owe you a double batch of my famous 'I'm Sorry Cookies for what I put you through."

"You didn't put me through anything," Mrs. Hollinger said. Her tone wasn't angry. It was even, and calm, which made Rachel even more terrified than she had been in the first place.

"What happened to you?"

"I'm from a tiny town in Western Ohio," Rachel began. "My name isn't Barbara. It's Rachel Berry."

"Why on earth…" Mrs. Hollinger asked, completely bewildered.

"I just…needed to get away."

"Well, _Rachel_, a lot of young girls just…need to get away. My husband and I minister to them every day. God brought you here for a reason."

"You're…not mad?"

"God forgives sins, and so do I," came Mrs. Hollinger's easy reply. "Why should I be mad? Nothing happened."

Rachel blinked, unable to believe what she'd just heard. She was fairly certain that she'd be at least _yelled at_, if not fired for what happened only an hour ago. And this woman was just…letting it go?

"I don't know what to say…"

"Just don't let it happen again," Mrs. Hollinger said with a smile.

"Oh, don't worry…when I have a mission to accomplish in life, I accomplish it. And I promise on the soul of Ethel Merman that Jonah will NEVER leave my side in public again."

"Ethel Merman?"

"I'm kind of into Broadway music. More like…it's my life. Or it was."

"Well, I sincerely hope you mean that," Mrs. Hollinger said shaking her head. "Because nothing happened _this _time, but you know the kinds of things that can happen to a little boy these days? What kind of perverts there are out there? They see nothing wrong with dating their own gender and then they move on to innocent young children and I..."

"Mrs. Hollinger," Rachel said hotly, folding her arms. "Two of the most wonderful people on the planet just happen to be THAT kind of person you're talking about. And I can assure you, they're NOT perverts. And they don't like little kids THAT way, and they can't even say the phrase 'chicken breast' without blushing around me."

"What exactly are you getting at?"

"The reason I'm here in San Diego in the first place is because my fathers asked my biological mother to bear their child, and this woman, whose identity I have yet to discover, got basted like a Thanksgiving turkey. Nine months later, I came into the world and was born here in San Diego. I still don't know who she is, but it became extremely important for me to find her after I lost the only thing in the world that mattered to me."

"Your virginity?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but that is most definitely in tact. What I lost, Mrs. Hollinger," Rachel huffed, "was my voice."

"Well, you certainly seem to have it now," Mrs. Hollinger said coolly. "Rachel, I'd like to help you, but I think you'd better go."

"What?" Rachel barely managed to squeak out, unable to believe what she'd just heard.

"If you're not out of my house in five minutes, I'm calling the police."


	10. Gone Forever

"The cab's here, Aunt Bex, we're heading out."

"Cab? My nephew is NOT taking a cab." Aunt Becky hobbled over to the cab driver. "Excuse me, Pedro…."

"Um, my name's Alex…" the cab driver said dryly.

"Whatever. Sorry to make you come all the way ou there and all, but we won't be needing you today."

"Aunt Becky! Don't!" Kurt shouted, but it was too late, the cab was already rolling away.

"I could call it back.

"Who the hell knows what kind of germ-infested shitholes you'll find yourselves in," Aunt Becky said. "Cabbies can't drive! You're lucky if you get one who speaks English! And oh my GOD! The way they smell! Kurt, you will NEVER get that smell out of your clothes. Not to mention cab drivers in this town don't know the place like I do. And besides, there's a battle of the bands thing going on in Chicano Park. Kind of want to check it out."

"Ma'am, we don't want you to go to any trouble…" Finn tried to say hurriedly, but Becky already had her keys in her hand was walking out the door.

"Ma'am," she giggled. "That's just precious. Call me that again and I'll have your balls for breakfast. If my nephew's to be believed you're as good as family anyway, so just get used to calling me Aunt Becky now. And no family member of MINE is taking a Gaddamn _cab._ Especially not when Gertrude's just beggin' to be taken out. And besides, on a day like this? The old girl's just screaming to leave the top down."

'Gertrude?' Finn mouthed.

"Just wait one second. Gotta fix my make-up," Aunt Becky said, and hurried off into the bathroom.

"Please tell me Gertrude's not a friend of hers? Because dude…I soooo don't want to see an old lady with the top down."

Kurt whacked him in the arm. "Gertrude's the Mustang, you idiot!"

Finn breathed a sigh of relief and grabbed the photos he'd printed off Aunt Becky's computer of Rachel, along with the Googled list of all the music stores in the area.

"Let's roll!" Aunt Becky said as she opened the garage door, revealing a cherry red vintage Mustang convertible.

"Can I drive?" Kurt begged.

"Hell to the no, kiddo," Aunt Becky said, and suddenly a lot of things about Kurt were beginning to make sense to Finn.

* * *

It really was a gorgeous day, Rachel decided. Too bad her life was in shambles. She felt the cool plastic of the pink 'Diva' ipod in her pocket and sighed as her heart sank at the thought of having to sell it. It was only an ipod. It was stupid of her to be so attached to that thing, but she needed that music now more than ever that she couldn't sing it anymore.

To everyone else, music was just background. It was a distraction, something to fill the silence. But her favorite songs felt like family. She didn't feel alone when she listened to her favorite musicals. She felt like finally someone understood her…like she could get through anything because there was always something from a musical to get her through it.

But she was out of money and had no place to stay. The envelope with the ticket was still in the front pocket of the suitcase, but she couldn't go home. Not yet, but she got the evelope out and that's when she found wallet-sized photographs in with the envelope.

Her jaw dropped as she saw photos of Jesse and Ms. Corcoran sitting in a car in a rainy parking lot. They were talking…only talking, but if that was why Jesse had bothered with her at all…well…now his interest in her made complete sense. Ms. Corcoran had sent Jesse as a spy. To sabotage New Directions and steal set-lists.

Why did Jesse bother to find her, though? That made no sense, to come all the way to San Diego just to humiliate her when she got home? That was just…cruel. She sighed, realizing that even though she _could _go home, it certainly wasn't an option _now_.

But what else could she do? She saw a girl who couldn't have been much older than her on a street corner looking very Julia Roberts pre-Richard Geer a la _Pretty Woman_ and flashed to a possible future scenerio. She couldn't even bring herself to be deflowered for Jesse, and she was foolish enough to believe he was actually in love with her at the time. Doing that with a total stranger? Who could have God only KNOWS what disease and she knew women like that didn't have standards, and no matter what, Rachel had standards.

But she also had to eat.

With one long last look at her ipod, she saw the blue and red neon 'Open' sign blinking in a shop called Super Pawn and as the door jingled and the man at the counter greeted her, she died a little inside.

"How many music stores can there BE in San Diego?" Aunt Becky griped as she turned towards a sign that indicated they were going to a place called Chicano Park.

"According to this list, twenty-seven in the greater San Diego area," Kurt said.

"All right boys, we've hit five of them, that means we've got…I hate math…how many does that leave us, Kurt?"

"Twenty-two," Kurt answered automatically.

"Oh Good Gravy. At this rate, we'll be at this all freaking week! Finny-boy, for all this effort, I hope she at least puts out."

Finn turned bright red as they pulled into a shop called Off the Record just a few blocks from Chicano Park.

"What can I do ya for, boys?"

"Woah, awesome guitar!" Finn said.

"Fenders are the top of the line. I can sell her to ya for $200."

"Sorry, but we're not looking to buy anything today…actually…Kurt said, "we're here because we're looking for someone."

"Yeah, we were hoping maybe you could help us."

"I get a lot of people in and out of this place, kids."

"Rachel's not exactly _forgettable_." Kurt said, glancing over at the rack of music-books. "Short, petite, long-brown-hair, abrasive personality and atrocious wardrobe?"

"She's not _that _bad," Finn protested. "So, um, her name's Rachel Berry, she might've been in here within the last few weeks," he said, showing her the picture he printed out.

"Sorry kids, she hasn't been here."

"Well at least she's hot," Aunt Becky said.

"Seriously, you've only got the E-Z Play version of Vocal Selections from _Rent_?" Kurt gawked. "You know you'd have better sales if you had a higher standard in your music collection, especially from a classic like _that._"

"Dude, you were sooo channeling Rachel just then. No wonder you had that crush on me."

"You sleep with a nightlight and I have Jacob Ben-Israel on speed-dial. Just keep that in mind for the rest of the trip."

"Thanks anyway," Finn said as they left.

Chicano Park was filled to capacity, and finding parking was proving to be a challenge.

"Tell ya what, boys," Aunt Becky suggested. "I'll hit the bar and pick you two up in a few hours. Sound good?"

Finn and Kurt nodded and the wheels of Becky's tires screeched as she sped away.

"Your Aunt Becky's a piece of work," Finn said.

"That guy up there could totally be Artie's long lost-twin brother," Finn said as he glanced towards the stage.

Kurt had to agree. All the band members on the stage made Artie look like a model in GQ compared to those dorks.

"I'm Phill, and we're….SEEEEX CLEEEEFT!"

And raucous guitar playingaccompanied a screeching sound that could only loosely be called singing began. Finn barely recognized the tune as a cover of _Paint it Black_.

"Which music store's are around here?" Finn yelled, anxious to get away from the racket.

Kurt consulted the print-out. "We have 'Cow' and 'M-Theory Music,' Kurt replied, scanning the block for the direction of the address.

Those music store owners hadn't been any more help than their competitors.

They were no closer to finding Rachel and the crowd gathered in Chicano Park for The Battle of the Bands was ignoring them as they asked anyone who looked unthreatening if they'd seen Rachel.

"Oh thank GOD! My ears were beginning to bleed," Kurt said when the lead singer finally yelled: "Thank you, San Diego!"

"All right, we're going to take a five and wait for the next band to get here, and Battle of the Bands San Diego 2010 will be back in full swing!" A guy who looked and sounded like he belonged on a game-show announced.

"Oh, hey, I've got an idea!" Finn announced, and bolted in the direction of the stage.

"Finn, what are you…?" Kurt began, but didn't have time to stop him if he wanted to avoid loosing him in the crowd.

The microphone squeaked as Finn took it off its stand.

"We're not supposed to have another act on stage for five minutes!" Someone with a set of headphones was yelling into a mouthpiece. "Somebody call security!"

"Hi," Finn announced. "We're…um, looking for Rachel"

Kurt was on stage next to Finn. "Yeah, seriously…" Kurt said, holding a picture up. "If anyone's seen her, please let us know…"

The crowed booed.

"DUUUUDE LOOKING FOR RACHEL SUUUUUUCKS!" someone in the crowd yelled.

"Tell me about it," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes.

"GET OFF THE STAGE!" Someone else yelled.

"Um…" was all Finn could say, Kurt was glad the last band had left the equipment on stage. He suddenly got an idea.

"Follow my lead," he mumbled to Finn and took the microphone.

"_One way or another, I'm gonna find ya_

"_I'm gonna getyagetyagetyagetya" _Finn sang weakly, getting behind him on the drum set. Kurt picked up the guitar.

"_One way or another, I'm gonna win ya_

_I'm gonna getchyagetchyagetchyagetchya" Finn joined in, stronger this time_

"_One way or another I'm gonna see ya…" _Finn got up from behind the drum-set, taking the other microphone.

"_I will drive past your house…" _Finn and Kurt sang in harmony, but suddenly Finn stopped.

"Oh my GOD!" Finn blurted out "I think it's her!" he breathed, and bolted off the stage. Kurt abandoned the guitar and followed suit when he saw what Finn was reacting to.

A petite girl about Rachel's age with long brown hair was hesitating for just a split second before climbing onto a bus that had stopped a half a block away.

"WAIT!" Finn shouted as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. Kurt's own side was burning, but he was able to keep up with the lanky athlete better than even he thought he could. "RACHEL WAIT!"

"RACHEL!" Kurt hollered.

But the bus pulled out, and whoever had gotten on was long-gone.

"It was her, I know it was…" Finn said helplessly, bent over, finally collapsing onto the bench at the bus-stop trying to catch his breath.

"How many girls could there be in San Diego fitting her description," Kurt reminded him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You do know she's not the only petite, teenaged, long-haired brunette with bad fashion sense in the world, right?"

"Kurt, I think we just lost her," was all Finn could reply. "I don't understand how I can just…go back and sing at Regionals without her."

"She's lost extracurricular activities privileges because she's been gone so long, Finn. She couldn't have sung with us anyway."

"She's the reason I sing, Kurt. Glee Club's lame…but when I'm singing with her, I feel like I can do anything."

"We've got twenty more music stores left to go. And we're here until Saturday, which gives us five more days. We'll find her."

But a week of searching turned out to be fruitless, and with a heavy heart, Finn and Kurt got on the plane back to Columbus.

"I wish I'd been right," Kurt said as they got off the plane. He'd give anything to see his old rival again.

And somewhere in hell, a snowball didn't melt.


	11. Back to the Door

**AN: So sorry this chapter is soooo long coming. I promise I WILL finish this fic. Hope everyone who celebrates it had a wonderful Thanksgiving! I am thankful for all my wonderful readers this year! You guys are fantastically patient and awesome!**

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With a heavy heart, Finn and Kurt landed at the Columbus airport.

Burt was there to meet them at the gate.

"So, boys, how was San Diego?" Burt asked.

Finn didn't answer.

"That good, huh?"

They rode the hour-ride home in silence.

When they got to the Hudson residence, Carole was sipping a glass of Merlot in the livingroom.

"How'd it go?" she asked her son, standing on tip-toe to hug him.

"Not well," was all Finn could say.

Burt and Carole exchanged worried looks.

"Listen, Finn," Kurt blurted out as Finn shuffled passed them and headed to the direction of his room. "I'm sorry I got you into trouble. This worked out so much better in my head. I just thought…"

"That's the trouble with you, Kurt," Finn exploded, his duffle bag landing on the floor with a soft thud. "Your plans _don't work_. We went all the way across the country looking for someone who…let's face it…if she _wanted _to be home, would've been back by now. We wasted our time. We wasted money….money we DON'T EVEN HAVE. And now we've got nothing to show for it."

"Honey…" Carole began, but Finn was NOT about to apologize.

The door shut with a loud slam, making the other three remaining in the Hudson living room jump.

"I know you wanted to help, Kurt," Carole said. "And I think deep down, Finn knows that, too. He's just disappointed right now."

"Me, too, Carole," Kurt said as he picked up his bag. "Me too."

* * *

It had been _months _since Rachel sang a note, and it was killing her.

She fought with every fiber in her being to not sing along with elevator music in stores or on her ipod, but if it was going to destroy her voice altogether, she couldn't do it. But really, without her voice, she was invisible anyway, so it's not like anyone would _miss _her. The other Glee Club kids hated her. They made that point painfully clear that day she made her announcement.

They were _happy _about it.

With Glee, at least she could be a part of something that really mattered. With Glee, _she _mattered. She could finally be the star she always knew she was. But now that she didn't have her voice, she was inconsequential now. She was invisible, and the worthlessness she was feeling at the moment she stepped onto the plane to return to Columbus was eating her alive.

She had set out for San Diego to find her mother, and the only reason she returned was because her search led her back home At least that's what she told herself. That's what she'd tell Finn and everyone if they bothered to ask.

Finn…he probably found a Cheerio to date by now. She hoped for his sake he did. She thought the only reason he'd shown any interest in her before she left was because she was suddenly unavailable thanks to Jesse…and then when Jesse showed up…

She briefly considered taking Jesse up on his offer until she realized it was all an act. He apparently was acting on behalf of Shelby Corchoran…who, as it turned out, _was _her mother. She went across the country to find her, and she turned out to be in her own back yard. It was like some kind of soap-opera. But this wasn't soap-opera. It was her life. And it was so messed up right now, she didn't even know where to begin.

She missed so much school, her only option for college at this point was probably the local Community College a couple of towns over. She'd have to do Summer School. No way would Puck ever let her live that down. Of course, she was pretty sure that color-coded charts wasn't exactly scholarship-worthy.

She certainly never thought she would be breathing Ohio air again. Okay, so it was the over-oxygenated air of the Columbus Airport, but still….close enough. She crained her neck, looking for the woman she'd only met once before in the crowded police station.

"Ms. Schwartz," Rachel said, spying the woman at the Baggage Claim.

"Ms. Berry," the woman said with a triumphant look on her face. "I know you must have a million questions for me."

"Not really," Rachel said. "Just wondering how you knew I was…"

"I called the airline. They told me you checked in. It wasn't that difficult. Come on. I'll take you home."

_Home._

Where her parents were waiting for her. Ohhh, she really wasn't looking forward to the long talk that was sure to be waiting for her.

And then school a couple of days after that.

Her parents…Mr. Schue…Finn…she'd have to face them.

Five letters had never terrified her so much in her life.

* * *

Usually, Glee Rehearsal was Will Scheuster's favorite day of the week. But there was no triumphant call from her parents telling him that their daughter was safe and sound. Truthfully, even if the call _had _come, she didn't know the steps. She didn't have a costume.

Without her, they'd have to forfeit.

It was over, but that wasn't even the worst of it. It wasn't about some damn competition. It wasn't about the club. At all.

She was one of his kids. And she wasn't coming back.

He was so _sure _Finn was going to bring her home, and she'd come waltzing in with a million ideas for the number after Regionals. Sure, he knew the rules, but he was fairly certain given her prior record, Figgins would be willing to over look them in her case.

With a heavy heart, he knocked on Sue Sylvester's door. "Sue, you'll be happy to know you've won. Without twelve members, we can't compete. So…you have your trophy room."

"Becky!" Sue barked.

"Yes, Coach?" the blond girl Will recognized on the cheerios said.

"Sing our song for Will here."

"He won't like it," Becky said, eyes downcast.

"How do you know until you sing it for him?"

"Will you sing it with me, Sue?"

Sue smiled. "Hit, it, Becky."

Becky hit play on the stereo Sue had on her office desk.

"_Mommy told me something_

_A little kid should know_

_It's all about the devil_

_And I've learned to hate him so_

_She said he causes trouble_

_When you let him in the room,_

_He will never ever leave you_

_If your heart is filled with gloom_

_So let the sun shine in_

_Face it with a grin_

_Smilers never lose_

_And frowners never win_

_So let the sun shine in_

_Face it with a grin_

_Open up your heart and let the sun shine in_

_When you are unhappy_

_The devil wears a grin_

_But oh, he starts to running_

_When the light comes pouring in_

_I know he'll be unhappy_

_'Cause I'll never wear a frown_

_Maybe if we keep on smiling_

_He'll get tired of hanging 'round._

_If I forget to say my prayers_

_The devil jumps with glee_

_But he feels so awful awful_

_When he sees me on my knees_

_So if you're full of trouble_

_And you never seem to win_

_Just open up your heart and let the sun shine in_

_So let the sun shine in_

_Face it with a grin_

_Smilers never lose_

_And frowners never win_

_So let the sun shine in_

_Face it with a grin_

_Open up your heart_

_And let the sun shine in."_

"That was great, Becky," Will said, grinning and applauding.

"William, I think I have a solution to your problem."

Will rubbed the back of his neck.

"It's not that Becky isn't GREAT. Because she is it's just…"

"What's the problem, Will, I thought she was pretty darn perfect."

"She WAS…all right, Sue, you know what? Congratulations, Becky, you're the newest member of New Directions. Come on, it's time for practice."

Hand in hand, Becky and Will walked to the choir-room.

And Will hoped that the kids would understand.

* * *

The song is called "Open Up Your Heart and Let the Sun Shine In" by Stuart Hamblen.


	12. Yet Another Series' of Hellos & Goodbyes

**AN: Two more chapters to go! Thanks guys for sticking through with this story! **

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"How was San Diego?" Will asked Finn as soon as he saw the tall boy approach with Kurt on his heals.

Kurt shook his head and mouthed, _'Not good_.'

"Sorry Mr. Schue. We tried," Finn said dejectedly, eyes downcast.

Will nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. "That's all anyone can ask," he said.

Finn nodded and climbed on the bus, and Kurt followed suit, joining the rest of the team.

"Is that everyone?" Will asked as his kids lined up single file in front of the bus before they departed for Regionals.

"Everyone's here except for Becky, Will," Emma told him.

"Not everyone," Will replied with a sad sigh. "When Finn told me he was going to San Diego to find her, I thought she'd be back for sure…but now…"

"It's not like she'd be able to compete anyway. You know the school rules. She's been gone for almost a month now."

"I know, I know," Will said, rubbing his forehead. "But still, it just doesn't seem right, you know?" Emma gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, but Will didn't have much time to dwell on that thought. The newest edition of New Directions was bounding up to them, hands full with a pillow and a garment bag.

"Becky," she asked the tiny blonde Cheerio still in her red and white McKinley uniform. "Do you have your costume?"

"Yes, Ms. P," Becky chirped, holding up the garment bag. "Sorry I'm late. I'm kinda nervous. Coach never made me do the dances with the other Cheerios. I'm not the best dancer."

"Don't worry, Becky," Will assured the girl. "Just sway in the back, and you'll be fine."

"Time to go!" Emma said. "Come on, Will, you can't let one student ruin it for everyone else. It's not fair. This is what you guys have worked _so hard _for all year long, and it's sad what happened to Rachel, it really is. And I hope she comes back. I hope they find her. But you owe it to the rest of them to be the other eleven kids' teacher, too. They need you right now. Rachel…doesn't."

He nodded and got on board. He knew she was right.

"ALRIGHT! WE'RE OFF TO REGIONALS!" he crowed, and all the kids whooped and hollered in response.

The engine cranked, and with or without Rachel Berry, they had a competition to win.

* * *

The sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky as Rachel Berry and Private Detective Erica Shwartz approached Lima, underneath a sky that was turning hues of orange, salmon and rose. Under any other circumstances, Rachel would've marveled at the beauty of it all, but at that particular time, there were more important things to focus on.

Like the feeling of sheer and utter terror that was welling up in her chest that only increased the closer they got to her hometown's city limits.

Her only hope was that her fathers wouldn't actually be home when she arrived at their doorstep. Or some cataclysmic event that would cause the world to end before the journey was complete. Either one would do.

Just like that, they were turning off the highway and taking the Lima exit. It was only a couple of miles now.

She took a deep breath.

"Can I ask you a question?" the woman driving the car asked Rachel, startling her a bit.

"I doubt I can _really _stop you from asking, so…go ahead," Rachel replied, head not leaving the cool glass of the windshield.

"Why did you leave?" the older woman asked. "I mean, not that I care or anything, 'cause it's not in my job-description. Still, I'm curious."

"Because…" Rachel began, suddenly finding herself struggling for an answer.

"Your dads obviously love you. They hired yours truly, the most expensive private investigator in the state to look for you. You have a hottie for a boyfiend. _Had_," she corrected. "I asked him to meet us at the airport, and he…" she seemed to pause for a polite word-choice. "Declined."

"Why?" Rachel asked. "I mnea, he was obviously only interested in me for the set-list, but I still don't know why he asked me to come back and move in with him."

"Oh, who the hell knows. The guy was a bit of a skeeze if you ask me. But eh, to each her own, I guess. But I asked first."

Rachel sighed. "I guess…I don't know. I never knew who my mom was, you know? Usually, it didn't really bother me. My dads are really great. They always make sure I knew that they loved me. Then, when I lost my voice, it was the one thing that made me unique. It was the one thing that made me _valuable_ as a person, you know?" _'The only reason Finn even bothered to spend time with me,'_ she thought miserably, but chose to keep it to herself. "Anyway, without my voice, I didn't…don't…really know who I am. What I can do. Stars are…were…kind of my thing, and I guess now that I don't have my voice, I'll have to find a new metaphor."

"So…you find a new metaphor," Ms. Schwartz replied pulling into her driveway. "Come on, I'll help you with your luggage."

Rachel took a deep breath, and with a shaky hand, she rang the doorbell.

* * *

"In a minute!" She heard Daddy's voice calling out from the other side of the door. "Nathan? Can you get that?

"Nathan? Can you get that? That'll be Rabbi Mortensen picking up the clothes for the charity drive. I've got to get the box. It's in the garage."

He sounded tired. She thought she'd like how devastated being gone would make everyone feel, but mostly, she just hated it. She knew how Daddy got when he didn't sleep. It wasn't pretty.

And just like that, the doorknob turned.

Papa was standing there on the other side of the doorway, eyes wide and jaw-slacked.

It was a long while before he finally found his faculties about him enough to speak.

"Rabbi, sorry about the wait, I didn't expect you so…" David began, but his voice trailed off as he took in the sight before him.

His partner's arms were wrapped around a tiny form. All he could see was long, dark hair.

With a loud thud, the box he was carrying landed on the floor, and the clothes fell out, littering the floor, but he didn't care. He rushed over to his daughter, holding them both with all his might.

"Rachel?" he finally whispered.

Rachel let out a small sob and nodded.

Nathan just wrapped his arms around his daughter, and David quickly followed, holding on to her like she'd disappear again at any moment.

"Tell me you're real….tell me you're really home," he whispered.

"I'm home," she said through tears.

"Thank you," Nathan mouthed to the private detective still standing at the doorway.

Erica Schwartz turned around and left..

Rachel Berry was back where she belonged.

Her job was done.


	13. Back Again

**Ok, so I lied. Well, more like, Raul didn't exactly TELL me that there'd be an extra chapter before this one started. I must have started this chapter a gazillion times before I found one that worked! He threw out basically every scenario until we came up with this compromise. So yes, one more to go! Thanks for reading/reviewing! **

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It was 1AM before her parents finally decided to go to bed.

She wasn't going anywhere on her own anytime soon, although since she currently had no boyfriend and never had much of a social life outside of glee club, that didn't really make much of a difference, anyway.

They'd decided that their next plan of action was to go to Princpal Figgins' office tomorrow and enroll in summer school. It wasn't exactly the most enticing way to spend a summer, but it was basically her only option at this point. And this way, the likelihood that she'd have to endure hum

Much to her surprise, she wasn't tired. She should've been exhausted. It had felt like an eternity since she last slept in her own bed, but her computer was beckoning, practically calling her name.

She couldn't risk anyone seeing her if they were online. They'd all know she was home and the likelihood that they'd all show up on her lawn demanding answers and quite possibly her soul was highly probable. So, she did what any reasonable person would do. She decided to put her old alias to good use.

All of her New Directions Teammates had, however, set their profiles to private, just like she had set her original profile to private, so she couldn't view any of the statuses to see if they'd posted the outcome of Regionals.

All except for William Scheuster, whose status made Rachel's heart kind of plummet to the floor.

"Heart-broken. We lost Regionals. I know there's a bright side somewhere in all of this. Don't stop belevin'. Any of you."

Artie's reply was below his: "Dark forces are clearly at work here."

Followed by Matt's: "Soulless automatons are apparently the order of the day."

Followed by Puck's: "This totally blows."

Followed by Quinn's: "These drugs I'm on are amazing. I can't feel a thing. But I'm pretty sure it's going to suck later once they wear off."

Followed by Mike's: Think we would've lost if Rachel hadn't left?

Followed by Finn's: Doesn't matter. Rachel or no Rachel, we lost. It's over.

Which was followed by Kurt's: "We all know the reason why we lost today. I was lacking my lucky hat. =("

Which was followed by Brittany's: I know what will make us feel better. Icecream with rainbow sprinkles. And baby ducks.

Which was followed by Santana's: B, ice cream, even with sprinkles and baby ducks isn't going to fix this. Damn, this sucks worse than VD.

Which was followed by Mercedes: We did the best we could, but we brought it today. At least we can be proud of that.

Which was followed by Tina: "Too bad there won't be a next year to show them what we're really made of."

Rachel couldn't take it anymore. Glee Club was going to be over.

And it was, quite possibly, all her fault.

She'd let them all down.

She hoped that on Monday when she went with her parents to fill out paperwork, she wouldn't have to face any of them.

* * *

Monday morning came a lot quicker than Rachel would've liked.

She went into the office donning a blond wig, a hat, and a trench coat in an attempt to remain conspicuous from anyone who might recognize her.

Especially if those individuals happened to be members of New Directions.

Which was apparently going to be disbanded by the end of the week.

The school hadn't changed one iota.

"Ms. Berry, you are aware that your extended absenteeism will cost you academically, I'm afraid. Although I understand why you felt that you had to leave, unfortunately, I have no choice but to recommend you attend summer classes to make up for the graduation requirements you will fail to meet at the end of the term, and as per school policy, you are exempt from extra curricular activity."

"I'm fully prepared to face whatever consequences I have coming to me, sir," Rachel replied.

"However, I cannot tell you how relieved I am to have you sitting here in my office," Mr. Figgins said. "Mr. Schuester, I am sure, will be absolutely thrilled with this bit of news."

"NO!" Rachel almost-screamed, "I mean, uh…just give me the papers, please."

Rachel signed her name. It'd been so long since she'd done it, she almost put the star in the hook of the 'y' like she usually did, but stopped herself. Stars just…weren't her thing anymore.

"Mr. Figgins, Dads, if…you don't mind? I'd like a few minutes?"

Rachel nodded.

She pecked her fathers on the cheek, standing on tip-toe to do so.

"Just give me about fifteen minutes, okay? I'll meet you out in the car."

* * *

Kurt Hummel refused to accept defeat.

Glee was stupid, Kurt knew. I mean, it was fun, but his Aunt Becky was right. Nobody solved the world's problems by singing about them.

But still, he'd found a place where it was okay to be who he was, or even try to be somebody he wasn't.

He found friends. Even some of the guys who used to give him a hard time, toss him into dumpsters, were now people he could call friends. He'd found his BEST friend.

He'd found a sort-of family.

He found someone else who loved musicals every bit as much as he did, even if that person was more annoying than an infomercial.

Even though he hadn't gotten to know all of them that well, he still wanted a chance, but now he wasn't going to get that chance.

The homeroom bell had just rung, and he knew that was where he needed to be, but it wasn't where he _belonged. _ He made his way to the auditorium.

He opened the door, and heard someone let out a small scream.

"Who's there?"

"Nobody!" A familiar voice answered. He'd know that high-pitched screech anywhere.

"No…it can't be…" he murmured.

He flicked on the lights, and thought for a second his eyes were playing tricks on him.

"Oh God…Kurt…I…uh, nobody was supposed to be here!"

His jaw dropped to the floor when he saw who the voice's owner.

"Rachel?"


	14. Say Goodbye

They stood there in silence for a few minutes.

"I'll just…I'm gonna go," Rachel stammered.

"Over my cold. Dead. Body," Kurt said. His arms folded across his chest blocking the closest exit. He was looking a lot more threatening than anyone sporting a sailor hat had the right to look.

"I'm sorry you guys lost Regionals," she said, looking down at the ground, unable to actually look her old rival in the eye.

"Lucky for you, Becky Johnson took your spot so we could actually compete. Otherwise, we would've had to forfeit."

"You mean the cheerleader with Downs Syndrome?" Rachel asked.

Kurt nodded, but his arms were still folded and he didn't look like he was moving toward forgiveness any time soon.

"Quinn had her baby," Kurt said. "And she's going to a great home. Ms. Corcoran adopted Baby Drizzle…I mean…Beth."

Rachel sat down on the stage and put her head in her hands and let out a small sob.

Tentatively, Kurt sat next to her. He timidly handed her the handkerchief from his shirt pocket. "It's silk," he said.

She took it and blew her nose loudly.

"Otherwise, you didn't miss much," Kurt said lamely, sitting next to her on the stage and dangling his feet.

"Artie rolled over Jesse's feet," he said. "But other than that…"

Rachel just sobbed harder and clung to his neck, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Hey, hey, watch the shirt! Watch the shirt!"

"Sorry…just…I left to find my mother and I found out that just happened to be Ms. Corcoran."

"Wait, what?"

"She's my mom and she's able to give a complete stranger something she couldn't even give her own _daughter_."

"Rachel, you barely know her."

"I know…but still…"

"I thought being a part of New Directions meant something to you," Kurt finally said. "How could you just…leave like that?"

"My voice is _gone_, Kurt. The doctors said I couldn't sing anymore. I would've had to leave the club anyway. And it's not like anyone actually _cared _about anything except winning Regionals, and I wouldn't have been able to help with that whether I'd stayed or not."

"Rachel, that's not…" Kurt began, but Rachel interrupted him.

"Right," Rachel seethed. "Because you and Mercedes weren't practically jumping at the chance for solo opportunities or anything."

"_Anything you can do, I can do better,_" Kurt sang. He knew his frienemy wouldn't be able to resist the response.

Rachel just sighed. "I. Can't," she said. Her jaw was clinched.

"That's not the Rachel Berry I know and want to strangle half the time."

"Yeah, well, maybe I've changed," Rachel said. "A person's not allowed to change?"

"You're Rachel Freaking Berry. Like you're going to let some doctor tell you what you can and can't do."

"_Anything you can do I can do better," _Kurt tried again.

Rachel shook her head. "They said if I sang again, I might not even be able to _talk_," Rachel said.

"Yeah, and doctors also thought that if you were a witch, you could swim and that being a redhead was a sign of demonic possession and that the earth was flat. Doctors don't know _everything_."

"Medicine has slightly advanced since then," Rachel pointed out and rose to her feet.

"_Anything you can do I can do better_," Kurt tried again.

"I'm not warmed up," Rachel protested.

"_Anything you can do I can do better," _Kurt repeated.

"I haven't sung a note in over a month."

"_Anything you can do I can do better," _Kurt sang.

"You're not going to give up are you?" Rachel asked.

Kurt shook his head. "_Anything you can do I can do better."_

Rachel sighed. "_I can do anything better than you,"_ she had forgotten how GOOD it felt to sing.

Kurt grinned, standing up now. _"No you can't_,_" _he answered, singing the next line of the song, crossing his arms again, but this time, there was a playful gleam in his eye.

"_Yes I can," _Rachel said, standing up as well.

"_No you can't!"_ Kurt grinned even wider.

"_Yes I can, yes I can, yes I can,"_ Rachel belted.

Kurt hugged her tightly. "Welcome home, Rachel," he whispered.

Rachel smiled through her tears, and lightly pecked him on the cheek. "You don't hate me?"

"Of course I hate you, but that's part of your charm."

She swatted him, but laughed as she did so and Kurt shook his head.

"No, I don't actually," Kurt said. "I know we don't really get along a lot of the time, but I'm glad you're back."

"Thanks."

The bell rang, and he went towards the backstage area where he'd left his bag.

"Actually, it's time for first period, I should go. But come to Glee practice this afternoon."

"Kurt…I can't…"

"Yes, you _can_. You owe it to Finn, to Mr. Schue. To everyone. But especially Finn. He'll be really anxious to see you, and we've put something special together for Mr. Schue."

She nodded and they left, arm-in-arm.

"Kurt, one thing before you go?"

He nodded.

"If I am going to have to survive in the world without my talent, I'll just have to get by on looks. I'm going to need a makeover. A REAL one."

"Whatever. You've still got your voice. But I'll do it. Not for you, though. For Finn."

"Finn?"

"He loves you, you know. Come over Saturday around Four."

She nodded and with one last look at the stage, she turned the lights out.

She had to get home. There were a lot of batches of 'I'm Sorry' cookies to be baked.

* * *

3:30 rolled around a lot quicker than she would've liked.

It was difficult rearranging 'I'm Sorry' on eleven individual plates, so she settled on a dozen cookies for everyone and a bright banner in pink glitter. If she wanted to put it up, she had to arrive at least half an hour early.

The problem was, even with the chair, she was having issues hanging up one end without the other end falling down.

"AAAARGH!" She screamed in frustration as the banner fell for what must've been the fifth time.

"What's going on out…" Will Scheuster's voice rang out from behind his office door, making Rachel stop cold. Her teacher just stood there, in front of the doorway with his jaw practically on the floor. "Rachel?"

"I've got to get this banner up before everyone comes in, and that's in about fifteen minutes, and I can't…" she babbled, unable to quite look him in the face.

"What are you doing here?" he said, moving to hang up the banner for her.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Mr. Schue?" she said, examining for any off-centeredness. "Apologizing."

"Well, you're back just in time," he said with an exasperated sigh. "This is the last Glee rehearsal." The bitterness that peppered his words was unmistakable. "We _needed _you, and you just…bailed?"

"I lost. My. Voice! I wouldn't have been able to compete anyway."

"You honestly think a banner and a dozen batches of cookies is going to fix this? Glee club is over. We lost, and I honestly can't say whether or not you being there would've made a difference, but you're the best singer here. It would've been nice to have the chance to find out."

"Mr. Schue…." Rachel stammered.

"And Finn…" Will continued, "Finn and Kurt went all the way to San Diego looking for you."

"They WHAT?" Rachel balked, hardly able to wrap her brain around what her teacher was saying. He looked like he wanted to say something more, but the sight of Sue Sylvester in the doorway stopped him.

"So, you see boys, we're taking out that wall, and my new, giant trophy that is almost as tall as you are will go right over THERE. We'll have to install flood-lights. And I'll need theme-music composed. We'll need speakers so it can be filtered in at all times."

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," Sue sneered from the doorway.

Santana followed, glaring at her. "Guess who got your solos?" she said in a sing-song voice. "With FINN, Yentle."

Brittany came in trailing behind her and as the only one so far who seemed remotely happy to see her. She immediately gave Rachel a hug. "How was Oz?" she asked.

Rachel hugged her back, so relieved that at least SOMEONE wasn't angry with her, that she didn't bother to ask about Oz.

Sue left with the maintenance men, and Artie and Tina passed her in the doorway. "Wheels, Asian," Sue greeted.

"Am I seeing things or is that a big pink, sparkly banner with Rachel Berry sitting underneath it?" Artie asked.

"It's a big pink banner with Rachel sitting underneath," Tina answered.

"I baked everyone a batch of I'm sorry cookies," Rachel said hopefully as Quinn entered, who rolled her eyes. Rachel offered Quinn hers, who made a face

"Like those won't go straight to my hips, and I have baby-weight to lose," Quinn said, taking a plate anyway. "But what the hell. I've been through a lot this weekend."

Mike and Matt were the next to enter. They both looked at her with these 'What the hell?' expressions, Rachel just gave them her most dazzling smile. They both looked up at the sign. She offered them both their cookies. They just took them and sat down.

Kurt and Mercedes came in next.

"Oh no. Here we go…" Mercedes muttered.

"Tell me these cookies have a magic ingredient," Puck said as he shook his head at the sight of the tiny girl. "Like pot."

"Noah, I was hoping that you'd evolved in my absence. Clearly, you have not. But it's good to see you."

Puck nodded and took a seat next to Mike.

Kurt gave her a tentative smile and took his seat, not taking his batch of cookies.

Then the door swung open, and there Finn stood, looking from Rachel, to Mr. Schue, and then to the group and then back at Rachel again.

"Hi," Rachel finally managed to say.

"You're here?" Finn finally blurted out.

"We wondered where you were, whether or not you were okay, wondering if you'd ever come back, and you just….show up? Just like that?"

"Mr. Schue told me what you and Kurt did…I didn't…I didn't mean…I just wanted…"

"Yeah, well, I didn't mean to blow up the George Foreman because who knew you can't cook a baked potato on there either, but it happened."

"Rachel, I'm sorry, but you don't belong here anymore," Will finally said, pointing to the door. "You should leave."

She sharply inhaled, looking to the group. "I'm sorry," Kurt mouthed.

Rachel turned on her heel and left, leaving the sign on the floor as the choir door swung shut behind her for the last time.


	15. Foregone Conclusion

**AN: Well, this is it guys! The last chapter! For real! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Y'all are awesome! Hope you've enjoyed the ride as much as I have.**

* * *

It was the first Saturday of the summer and Finn celebrated it by sleeping in until noon. Burt invited him over to watch the Reds game on the Plasma TV.

Before long, though, Finn was pretty sure that the game wasn't the main reason his soon-to-be step father invited him over. For one thing, Burt was suspiciously absent. For another, almost as soon as Finn sat down, Kurt had to bring up _Rachel. _The one subject he'd been trying to avoid the most.

"So have you spoken to Rachel since Monday?" Kurt asked, looking at the clock on the DVR.

Finn shook his head. "Why should I? She hasn't exactly tried to talk to me either."

"Finn, you can't be mad at Rachel forever," Kurt tried to reason with him, but Finn was being stubborn.

"Try me," Finn said as he opened the passenger side of Kurt's Navigator.

"Think about it…" Kurt reasoned, starting the engine, "if you lost your legs or had an injury or something and couldn't play football, how would you feel?"

"Kurt, it's not as if I don't understand why she did it, because I get it. I do," Finn said. "But just because I understand doesn't mean she suddenly gets a free pass. And then, on top of everything she put us through, she thinks it's okay again if she makes a banner and a batch of cookies? I admit the cookies were delicious, but still…"

"Look, she made a bad decision Finn. A mistake. And she KNOWS she made a mistake. Newsflash. You're not exactly perfect, either."

"Yeah, but when I make MY mistakes, it's not like a whole bunch of lives are ruined as a result."

"Lives WEREN'T ruined. We have Glee club back next year. And might I remind you that you were ready to walk out on Glee Club too when all the Beth Drama came out."

"Yeah, but I came back!"

"You wouldn't have if Mr. Schue hadn't leant you that tin-can he calls a car."

"That was different!"

"So it's okay for you to walk out when you need to? But it's not okay for _her._"

"I thought you didn't even LIKE Rachel? Why the hell are you taking her side all of a sudden."

"I'm not taking her side. I'm just playing devil's advocate here."

"I don't know what that means, but I'm pretty sure it's nothing good."

"I'm trying to show you that there might just be more than one point of view," Kurt said with a roll of his eyes.

"Forget it, Kurt, I'm trying to watch a game here," Finn yelled, but Kurt wasn't paying attention. He was eyeing the window that showed the front driveway. Someone had pulled up.

"You order pizza or something?"

"Please! That much grease is bad for your complexion."

He opened the door.

"Come on in!" Kurt said.

"I wasn't sure the makeover was still on. Nobody's really speaking to me right now. Matt Rutherford told me through Facebook Chat that New Directions gets another year," Rachel said in a rush of words.

"So first thing's first. We're off to the Mall." He checked his pocket. "Oh crap. I left my cell phone in the basement.

"Mr. Schue will be more forgiving by then," Kurt assured her. "He was just mad because he thought that his club was gone, and he really needed someone to blame. You were the easy target."

"Just have a seat in the living room," Kurt told her, noticing Finn wasn't in sight. "I'll be ready to go in just a second."

"Go where?" Finn asked, emerging from the bathroom.

"Finn…" Rachel breathed. Finn felt frozen to the spot.

"What are you doing over here? You and Kurt don't exactly even get along."

"He's giving me a makeover," Rachel said, smiling. "I figure if I can't get ahead on my talent anymore, I need to rely on my looks."

Finn cracked a smile at that. "You don't exactly need _help_ in that department," Finn found himself saying before he could stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth.

Rachel smiled, blushing furiously. "I missed you, Finn," she admitted softly. "I thought I saw you in San Diego just before I went back home."

"So that WAS you?"

Rachel nodded, daring to take a step closer.

"I wasn't even sure it was you, either," she began again, "until Kurt told me the morning of the apology debacle. I wanted to talk to you before I saw the whole group, but there just wasn't the time, and I know that just…showing up…probably wasn't the best reveal ever. But I didn't know what else to do. I wanted to apologize to everyone, but…mostly you. Actually…your reaction, though well-deserved, was exactly why I hesitated to come back. I…" Rachel's voice trailed off, finally running out of words.

Finn took one of her hands in both of his.

She smiled.

"I missed that the most, you know," Finn said, voice shaking as he cupped her face in his hands.

"What?"

"You think your voice is the best thing about you, the thing that makes you special. Personally, I think it's your smile."

Which made Rachel blush even more.

Just then, the door slammed as Kurt emerged from the basement.

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?" Kurt asked. Finn thought there was a note of hopefulness in his voice.

Finn turned lobster-red and Rachel stepped back.

"No, not a thing!" Rachel said a little too quickly for it to be true.

Kurt quirked an eyebrow, looking from Rachel to Finn, then back to Rachel.

"Normally, this is the part where I say my work here is done," Kurt said with a smirk. "But Rachel, I refuse to put up with another winter of your sweater collection."

Kurt laughed at the text message he received from Finn as they pulled out of the neighborhood.

_**Thanks, Dude. Now, just tell her how cat calendars R creepy, and everything will be perfect. BTW. I 3 how txt msgs are just fixed 4 u, coz I would've never been able 2 spell 'calendar.' Being ur bro will be kinda cool. ;)**_

**_Kurt had to agree._**

"What? Who texted you?" Rachel asked, eyes laughing.

"I think the more important question here is...are you a fall or a spring?"


End file.
